


Bend, Bow, Break

by teeterss



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Jesse gets his unsexy sweat on, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-07-24 11:17:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7506211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teeterss/pseuds/teeterss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesse McCree can't sleep and somehow meeting Hanzo Shimada makes everything a lot worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jesse could sleep anywhere. It was something that had kept him sane back in his Blackwatch days. Napping on a stake out using his revolver for a pillow. Sleeping like a baby in a safe house as gunfire rained down outside. Nothing could stop Jesse McCree getting his eight hours. He just needed to pull his hat down over his eyes and he was off. It was a good skill to have and one that had never let him down before. That was until he moved into this new base.

Jesse was now lucky if he got some shut eye before three am and he wasn’t someone who could function on a bad night’s rest. He was next to useless unless he’d sucked down half a dozen mugs of coffee. It didn’t help that there was little to fill his days beyond training to tire him out, which made him even more restless. He'd only been at the base for little over two weeks and he was already itching to leave on a new mission. Unfortunately that didn't seem to be happening any time soon.

"Our next move needs to be a carefully considered strategic attack," Winston had said when Jesse had all but begged him to reveal when they’d be shipping out. "We're at a crucial juncture and it cannot be rushed.”

In other words, he had no idea.

It wasn't even like anything was wrong with the base. It was smaller than the Swiss one had been and less showy, holed up just North of nowhere to avoid suspicion, but the insides were nearly exactly the same. And maybe that was the problem. It was so similar that the differences had him spooked. For starters his new room was like a flipped version of his old quarters. He kept bashing his leg on the side table that was supposed to be on the other side of the room and rolling over into the wall that was supposed to be on his right when he futilely tried to sleep. When he’d walk the halls of the base, he’d turn a corner, expecting to see Reyes there ready to bust his balls for something, and instead see a new recruit who he didn’t recognise.

It all set him on edge in a way that nothing had before. Combat he understood; it was straightforward, simple. You shoot the bad guys, they shot at you. This… uneasiness was something he couldn’t explain. And Jesse never fared too well with things he couldn’t explain.

That was how Jesse found himself sitting in the kitchen of the base at two in the morning. He'd grown sick of the sight of those familiar but wrong four walls and given up trying to sleep entirely. He had a cigarillo lit, rolling it slowly back and forth between his finger and thumb as he watched the smoke from it curl up and filter away up through the vents above him.

The microwave next to him pinged making him jump. Warm milk; apparently it was good for sleeping. He gingerly fished it out the machine and poured a good splash of bourbon from his hip flask in the boiling mug. He’d’ve preferred the bourbon straight but the addition of the milk made the drinking alone in the middle of the night seem less pathetic.

He took a long swig from it, grimaced, then shrugged and took an other. Definitely not the worse thing he’d drunk.

The sound of the glass door out to the patio sliding open startled him and he looked up to see Genji's brother, Hanzo, slipping inside with, for some reason, a broom in his hand. He stopped when he saw Jesse sitting up at the counter.

"What are you doing sitting in the dark?” Hanzo asked sharply. It sounded like an accusation, his words loaded with suspicion and mistrust, as if Jesse was the newcomer, sneaking about in the middle of the night wielding cleaning equipment.

"Just getting a night cap." When Hanzo didn’t seem to register that as a sufficient answer, Jesse indicated to his drink. “Something to drink to help me sleep." He took an overly large mouthful to show him, flashing a thumbs up.

Hanzo's expression turned to one of disgust and Jesse realised he had milk dripping from his moustache. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth with a sheepish laugh.

"Look at that, got a moustache in my moustache." Jesse hadn’t thought Hanzo's expression could get any more contemptuous but he managed to surprise him.

Hanzo had been at this base nearly as long as Jesse and yet this was the first time Jesse had actually seen him since his arrival. He had the feeling he might not be giving off the best first impression here.

"I reckon I should introduce myself, I’m —“

"I know who you are,” Hanzo cut in. He apparently didn't feel it necessary to elaborate any further as no further comment followed.

“Right.” Jesse lowered the hand he'd offered out that Hanzo was pointedly ignoring. Without his intimidating bow and quiver, Hanzo looked smaller than Jesse remembered him being when he’d first seen him arriving with Genji. Jesse had no doubt he could still kick the ass of anyone here — he’d heard the stories of the legendary elder Shimada brother — but seeing him in a domestic setting made him look less the fearsome dragon, and more human.

"So, ah, what's with the broom?"

"I have been cleaning with it. Surely you are not so ignorant that you don't know the function of a simple broom."

"What, no, ‘course I do," Jesse said, a little taken aback. "Just wonderin’ what you were doing cleanin’ at this hour."

"This place is filthy. I do not think any attempt has been made to clean it since its reoccupation."

"It ain't that bad. Ain’t seen no rats yet, now that’s when you gotta start worryin’.” Jesse realised that was the wrong thing to say when Hanzo narrowed his eyes at him.

"Anyhow," Jesse said hastily before he could get belittled any further. "I ain't seen you around much, hope you’re not feeling unwelcome here."

"I do not wish to impose on anybody. I am only here for my brother.” Hanzo stood so rigidly that he made the broom look crooked. Jesse felt tense just looking at him. “I feel more comfortable walking freely at night where I cannot disturb anybody.”

“There ain’t no need for that," Jesse said with a wave of his hand, spraying ash from his cigarillo across the table. "Most folks here feel like they know you already. Your brother talks about you all the time. For years I’ve been hearing Hanzo this and Hanzo that.”

"Do not presume to know me or my relationship with my brother," Hanzo snapped, his grip on the broom handle tightening. OK, so Jesse had been wrong. Even without the bow and arrows, Hanzo was still terrifying. Even that broom was starting to look more and more like a weapon in Hanzo’s highly capable hands. Still, the southern gentleman in Jesse wouldn't let him give up that easy.

"Well, just don't be feeling like you gotta be goin’ around all sneaky like in the small hours. We’re all feeling a little out of place here. I sure as hell am, and I was part of the original crew. What better place to feel like you don’t belong than ‘round a bunch of others feelin’ the same?”

“You do not know my history with my brother, what I have done,” Hanzo said quietly. “If you did you would not be speaking this way.”

“I know,” Jesse said, nodding slowly, giving his smoke a long suck. “But if Genji wants you here, you’re welcome as any.” There was a moment when it looked as if Hanzo was about to say something in reply but then thought better of it and snapped his mouth shut.

“Well then,” Jesse started, standing and gathered up his mug and cigar, "Best be getting back to bed. I’ll be wishing you a good night, pardner."

Hanzo remained silent and just watched as Jesse shuffled rather awkwardly in his socks across the room. Jesse was almost high and dry and out the door when Hanzo spoke again.

"I do not like all the waiting here.” Jesse turned to see Hanzo addressing the floor as he spoke, like he was revealing an embarrassing confession. “There is no structure to the days."

“Yeah, all this nothing's getting to me too,” Jesse said. “Driving me a little stir crazy to be honest."

"I am used to order, structure, discipline. There is none of it here. I find that I am wasting time and I dislike that very much.”

"Just give it a while,” Jesse said, giving what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “We're just getting back on our feet. Once some missions start comin’ through, things’ll get straightened out. Come join us in some training in the meantime, though I’m sure someone like you don’t need it.”

"I have seen you fight,” Hanzo said suddenly. “You are a remarkable shot." The compliment came so out of nowhere Jesse had to repeat it over in his head to process it.

“Well, thanking you kindly," he said with a grin, tipping his nonexistent hat. Maybe Hanzo wasn’t so bad after all.

"In all other fields of combat you are abysmal.”

Jesse blinked at him for a moment then gave a bark of shocked laughter and shook his head.

“Damn, pardner, you really don’t sugar coat nothing, do ye?”

“It would be more rude to allow you to continue in this manner. I am surprised you've lasted this long in the field.”

“I do alright by myself. I ain’t dead yet,” Jesse said, sticking out his chest a little defensively.

“But you have taken damage,” Hanzo said, indicating Jesse’s metallic arm. “You rely entirely on your weapon. What would happen if you were to run out of bullets?”

“Hey, this ain’t my first rodeo. Never had no complaints before.” That wasn’t strictly true, but the people doing the complaining weren’t around any more and that was good enough for Jesse.

“You would die,” Hanzo continued, answering his own question as if Jesse hadn’t spoken. “I do not doubt you were once a very skilled fighter, I can see it in the way you move, but you have grown lazy.”

“If this is your idea of making friends, I gotta tell ye, your approach needs some work.” Jesse had known this guy for all of ten minutes and here he was throwing insults at him. He’d like to know how Hanzo had such a good idea of how he fought but he had the impression he’d probably rather not.

“I do not say this to merely insult you,” Hanzo said, voice smooth as good whiskey. “I am telling you this as I am offering to train you.”

“To what?” Jesse all out laughed. This was just getting more and more bizarre. “I don’t need any tips on shootin’ arrows, but thanks.”

“As I said before, your aim requires no assistance,” Hanzo took a step closer to Jesse. “It is everything else that needs work.”

“I had a teacher once before,” Jesse said with a humourless smile. “Didn’t end so well. Don’t plan on makin’ that mistake again.”

“I have been trained in multiple ways of combat by the most skilled masters Japan had to offer. I have spent my entire life honing my skills entirely for this purpose.” Hanzo moved even closer toward Jesse and Jesse had to resist the urge to take a step back.

“You would be a fool to turn down my offer.”

Even though Jesse had a few inches on him, he still felt dwarfed under Hanzo’s penetrative gaze. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Jesse was dressed in sweats and a faded old t-shirt he’d won for lasting five minutes on a bucking bronco at a place called ‘Sandy Dick’s Roadhouse’, while Hanzo was still in full yukata. He wished he was wearing his hat at least.

“I guess,” Jesse stammered out.

“Then we are in agreement. I shall see you in the morning for our first session,” Hanzo said, briskly stepping around Jesse and towards the door. “Six o’clock.”

“Wait, what?” Jesse said, feeling a little dazed. “Listen, I never really agreed to this. And did you say six o’clock? Why, that’s in three hours!”

His complaints were addressed to an empty room, however, as Hanzo had disappeared so quickly Jesse couldn’t entirely be sure he hadn’t just dreamt their whole conversation in some kind of a sleep deprived hallucination.

“What in the hell just happened?” he asked aloud but the deserted room had about as much of a clue as he did.

*

Jesse was roused into consciousness by the realisation he wasn’t alone in his room. His mind immediately became alert and from his position sprawled out face down in bed, he shifted ever so slightly to slip a hand under his pillow to curl it around peacekeeper. He gave a beat then whirled around, revolver raised and pointing blindly into the dark room.

A second later he found himself flat back on his bed, an arm pressed against his throat, holding him down and another forcing his gun hand against the wall.

“Whassa fuck?” Jesse rasped against the forearm crushing his windpipe.

“You were not answering your door,” a far too calm voice said above him.

“Hanzo?” Jesse squinted into the darkness and realised that yes, the man he’d met merely hours ago was the one currently straddling him. “What the hell are you doing, I could have shot you!” Hanzo gave a derisive sound that Jesse thought might have been his version of a laugh then climbed off him.

“I assure you, you could not.” Jesse sat up gingerly, rubbing his throat, then flicked on his bed side lamp. There was Hanzo, standing stiffly by his bed, watching him carefully. He didn’t appear to be sorry or even embarrassed by his actions. In fact, he was just as haughtily stone faced as he had been the last time Jesse had seen him.

“What in tarnation are you doing breaking into my room? You know in these parts most people just knock.”

“I did try knocking. Several times. As I said, you were not answering my attempts to rouse you, and as I did not wish to wake the rest of the building, I simply let myself in.”

“I had my door locked, how’d you get in?” Jesse said rubbing at his eyes wearily. Now that the shock had worn off and his heart had stopped trying to hammer out of his chest, he realised just how tired he was. “You some kinda ninja?

“Not all Japanese people are ninja,” Hanzo said curtly.

“Not all Japanese people break into other people’s rooms at,” Jesse fumbled for his clock on his side table, “six o’clock in the morning!”

“We had an appointment.” Jesse buried his head in his hands and wondered what he had done to deserve this. His mind began unhelpfully supplying many reasons why karma might want to come back and bite him in the ass, so he quickly cut off that line of thinking.

“Listen sunshine, a work out is just about the last thing I wanna do right now. Just give me a few more hours of sleep then I’ll be fighting fit.”

“We had an appointment,” Hanzo repeated bluntly. “I am not a man who goes back on his word. I will see you in the gym in ten minutes.” At that, he turned to leave with a flick of the ribbon in his hair.

Jesse flopped back onto the bed and pulled a pillow over his head. He was determined he would not leave this spot. Hanzo would just have to come back in and drag him out of it. No sir, Jesse McCree would not be moved.

After three minutes, he let out a frustrated sigh and staggered up to the bathroom, knocking his shin against the bedside table as he went with a grunt. He wasn’t getting back to sleep any time soon anyway.

*

“An eleven minute mile,” Hanzo said, peering over the side of the treadmill to check the read out. He clucked his tongue but didn’t add anything else. Even so it was the most scathing put down Jesse had ever heard.

“You know the best thing about usin’ a gun?” Jesse said through laboured breathing, stepping down off the equipment on shaky legs. “It’s long range. No running required.”

“And how exactly to do you intend on getting in range to use your gun? Does a horse come with the hat?” Hanzo said cooly, handing Jesse a bottle of water which he immediately began glugging.

Jesse glared at him as he drank in a way in which he hoped conveyed the scathing reply he wasn’t able to say at the moment. Hanzo simply blinked at him, clearly unimpressed.

“I don’t see you doing any running,” Jesse said panting, after he’d downed nearly half the bottle.

“My exercises comes later, for now we are focusing on you.”

They’d been in the gym little over fifteen minutes and Jesse was already ready to hit the showers and call it a day. The place was of course, empty as no one else was stupid enough to wake up at this hour and Jesse had the terrifying feeling that Hanzo was going to take advantage of all the free equipment get him to use every single machine there.

“Come, let us stretch.” Hanzo indicated to some mats he’d set up in the corner of the room. “I have been considering the best course of action in devising a routine for you. Clearly a lot of work needs to be done.”

“I’m trying real hard not to get offended here, coach,” Jesse said, rotating his arms slowly before beginning his warm up.

“As you seem so very… westernised I do not wish to introduce to you too many practises that would seem jarring or what would take too long for you to grasp. This also needs to be a routine that you could manage even when I am not here. There is much equipment at this base but you will not always have access to it.”

“Seems like you put a lot of thought into this,” Jesse said as he started up on his leg stretches.

“And I expect you to show as much dedication as well,” Hanzo said as stoic as ever. “No, not like that.” He corrected Jesse’s stance from where he was stretching out his hamstring with a curt slap to his thigh.

“Hey,” Jesse whined petulantly, but allowed himself to be moved to the correct position.

“So what are you getting out of this,” Jesse couldn’t help but ask after stretching for a while. “This seems like a very one sided deal.” Jesse was currently going under the theories of Hanzo having some kind of sadistic tendency or that he was a talon agent on a very subtle, slow acting assassination.

“I would have expected a little more gratitude and a little less questioning,” Hanzo snapped. “Now if you finished, time to move on.” Jesse grimaced and braced himself for the worst.

*

It turned out that ‘the worst’ was feeling like he was about to die.

“No more. I can’t,” Jesse gasped from where he was dangling limply on a pull up beam. “My good arm is gunna rip off.”

“No it is not,” Hanzo’s annoyingly calm voice spoke from behind him. Jesse would have disagreed but he’d lost his puff and was desperately trying to suck air back into his lungs before he blacked out.

“You have only done one set of ten. You still have ten more to go.” Jesse let out a wail. He didn’t think he could last ten more seconds let alone ten more reps.

“You’re gunna kill me,” he rasped, his voice sounding so thin he barely recognised it. “I knew it, you want me dead ’n’ you’re killin’ me in the cruelest way possible.”

“Focus,” Hanzo snapped, voice harsh and Jesse had to fight back a shudder. The same creeping uneasiness that wouldn’t let him sleep had returned because that was the wrong voice barking orders at him and this was the wrong room and he shouldn’t be here. Overwatch was done and his trainer was dead, only he wasn’t and Overwatch was reformed and here Jesse was, back in a training room with an instructor breathing down his neck. His stomach turned and he wanted to bolt out of this room, out of the entire base and not look back.

“Are you listening?” Hanzo said, jolting Jesse from of his thoughts. He stalked around so he was standing in front of Jesse, looking extremely unimpressed. “I knew you were in bad shape but this is truly pathetic.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Jesse said with almost no bite. Out of pure spite, he hauled himself up with a considerable amount of grunting in another feeble pull up that didn’t even clear the bar. He let out a strangled cry then flopped back down. Hanzo was watching him like he was witnessing a particularly gruesome car crash.

“See, you call that pathetic?” Jesse slurred tiredly, flashing a weak grin.

“You are not regulating you breathing, you must breathe with it. You are wasting energy this way.” Jesse so dearly wanted to tell him how he wasted all his energy on the thousands of exercises Hanzo had gotten him to do before this but he’d blown all his air again. He hated that Hanzo was right about that.

“Do it again, but this time,” Jesse jumped when he felt Hanzo’s hands on the small of his back and stomach. They were large and dry against the slick sweaty mess of Jesse’s shirt. “Use your stomach. Breath deeply on the lift and release at the top.”

“You’re gunna have to help me,” Jesse said, uncaring of how weak that sounded.

“I am here, use your breath to help you. You are stronger than you know.”

Jesse did as instructed and sucked in a deep breath while he heaved himself up over the bar so his chin cleared it, his stomach muscles straining. Hanzo’s hands around him gave him grounding and a solid base to focus on.

“Good, again.” Again and again, for eight more reps Jesse breathed in deep, pulled himself up to the bar, exhaled, then steadily set himself down again. When he reached number ten he was shaking so bad he couldn't even see any more. It was just a white haze, the awareness of the two hands around him and Hanzo steady voice counting down the pull ups.

“And you are done. You may get down.” Jesse landed unsteadily, the floor feeling too solid after so much time in the air. He noticed there were dents in the bar from where his metallic hand had been gripping it for so long.

“Your breathing is a problem. Those cigars you smoke are killing you.”

“Yup,” Jesse grunted, as he slumped down on one of the benches. “Most things in life that are fun will do that to you.”

“We shall have to focus more work on that in your next session.” Jesse didn’t like the implications of what that meant but that was a problem for tomorrow’s Jesse. Right now all he wanted to worry about was how soon he could get to a shower.

“As for everything else,” Hanzo continued, “you have no control, no finesse. You go through the motions of the exercises but you have no skill in them.”

“And I thought a work out was supposed to make you feel good,” Jesse muttered. He dumped the last of his water over his head then shook out like a dog and smirked when he heard Hanzo’s disgusted grunt when some landed on him.

“Do not rest yet. You still need to do your cool down mile then stretch out.” Jesse idly wondered how far he’d get if he used his mile to get away from Hanzo and how painful he’d make Jesse’s punishment if he tried.

*

After a long shower in which Jesse nearly fell asleep standing up twice, and a trip to the kitchen where he undid all the good work he’d just done with an obscenely large, unhealthy breakfast, Jesse went in search of Genji. He figured if anyone could help him with this Hanzo situation it would be the person who’d brought him here. And if he couldn’t help, well, Jesse could just vent his frustrations at someone a lot less scary than Hanzo.

He found Genji sitting peacefully on the grass in a small alcove of the gardens. He was with his mentor, Zenyatta, who’d arrived at the base three days before. They both looked to be in deep meditation.

Jesse shuffled awkwardly at entrance of the alcove, unsure whether he should disturb them or not.

“Good morning, Jesse,” Genji spoke in his light, robotic voice, taking the choice away from him. “We’re you in need of something?”

“Oh geeze, hey Genji, Zenyatta.” He tipped his hat to both of them, feeling a little foolish. “Sorry ‘bout barging in like this.”

“My master cannot hear you, he is too deep in meditation.” Genji stood gracefully in one fluid movement. “Luckily for you, I have not mastered that skill yet.”

“Could I have a minute?” Jesse asked, jerking his head back in a signal he wished to walk and talk.

“You, my friend, may have as long as you need.”

They walked a while, engaging in light small talk; Genji gliding along, hands clasped behind his back and Jesse slouching, thumbs tucked in his belt. Jesse tried to figure out the best way the broach the subject of Hanzo and decided it was probably best to just get straight to the point.

“So I met your brother last night,” he started.

“You have spoken to Hanzo?” Genji said pausing in his tracks.

“Yeah, haven't you?” Jesse asked, a little startled by his reaction. Genji sighed and it was a long, despondent sound.

“I have sought out my brother many times during our stay here but he either evades me or cuts our conversations so brief I have hardly any time to speak to him at all.”

“But he came with you, surely you spoke then?”

“I recruited him, yes, but that meeting was also where I first revealed to him of my survival. He did not take it well, that much is clear. Hanzo wishes to be here because I am here, but he is not yet ready to face me. He is a man in deep conflict with himself.”

“But you’ve forgiven him, you’re ok with him being here?”

“Yes, but trust me, finding peace with what happened did not take mere weeks for me to achieve. It was a long process and I must give Hanzo space to do the same.” Jesse nodded. He remembered how Genji had been when he had first met him after Angela’s reconstruction, so lost and angry, not entirely dissimilar to the elder Shimada now.

“But please,” Genji continued. “You have spoken to Hanzo, what did he say?”

“Well, it was a little curious really. He’s decided he’s my new trainer.”

“Ah,” Genji said, all too understandingly, and indicated for them to continue their walk.

“Yeah, ‘ah’ indeed. I chanced a meetin’ with him in the early hours of this morning, said about three words to him, all friendly like, then he’s waking me up crack o’dawn and dragging my ass to the gym! I mean,” Jesse flopped his arms in a bewildered shrug. “What in the world is that all about?”

“My brother has always had some… issues when it comes to control,” Genji said. He fiddled with his hands, a nervous tic mediation and new hands hadn’t seemed to have eradicated yet. “Or rather, when he feels his control slipping. You would have noticed he’s not the most relaxed of people.”

“He ain’t just got a stick up his ass, he’s got the whole damn tree,” Jesse agreed and Genji laughed.

“I’d watch what you say around him. Hanzo was never one for taking a joke at his own expense.” Genji took a seat on one of the stone benches that littered the garden and Jesse joined him.

“I remember he did something similar to this when we were children. He could not master a technique with his blade. It was the first time such a thing had happened to him — he was always the star pupil — and needless to say he was very frustrated. His teacher told him he could not proceed with any more training until he had mastered it to his satisfaction. The pressure on my brother had always been immense; he was the heir, the son the clan had their eyes on, and my brother felt it very keenly. So Hanzo released his frustrations by pulling aside a few of my father’s security team and began to instruct them on how to guard the compound better.”

Jesse tried to picture it; teen Hanzo barking orders at men twice his size and probably improving the running of his house exponentially. It wasn’t difficult to imagine.

“How you get him to stop back then?”

“After my father heard of what he was doing, he removed the men from his employ, by what means I do not know, nor care to think about. Eventually Hanzo mastered the skill and that was that.”

“So your brother’s using me as a human stress ball,” Jesse sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on just behind his eyes. “After this morning I’m really starting to feel like it.”

“He didn’t engage you in hand to hand combat training, did he?” Genji asked.

“No. Why, will he?” Jesse said suspicious of Genji’s worried tone.

“No.” Genji replied a little too quickly for Jesse’s liking. “But if he does, I would turn down the offer.”

“If I could say no to the guy, I wouldn’t be in this mess. He’s very persuasive, think if I refused him he’d make a pin cushion outta me with his arrows.”

“I am truly sorry you have been put in this position, my friend. However, I cannot deny that I am pleased Hanzo is reaching out to someone rather than isolating himself. He was never good at making friends.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Jesse snorted, then immediately felt bad for it. “Nah, he ain’t all that bad. Comes on a little strong, could do with cracking his face a little more, but he’s probably gonna prevent me heading towards that early heart attack. Or bring it on, I ain’t sure yet.” Jesse plucked his cigarillo from his breast pocket and lit it, sucking on it contentedly for a moment. “You know I caught him cleaning when I first met him. Sweeping the patio at two in the mornin’.”

Genji laughed, light and easy and the fondness in it made Jesse’s heart ache. “Ah yes, now that is something Hanzo has done since childhood. He cleans when he is uncomfortable.”

Jesse gave a low whistle and shook his head. “Genji, your brother’s just a big ball of issues with a pony tail.”

“Yes,” Genji said with a sigh. “And he was like that before he killed me. I imagine he must be considerably worse now.”

Jesse gave a deep laugh and cuffed Genji on the shoulder. He was one of the few people who enjoyed Genji’s rather dark humour when it came to his near death experience.

“I’ll let you know. Now what I’m needing is a long nap before Hanzo has me on a 10 mile pre-dinner run or some such,” Jesse said, patting Genji on the knee before standing and stretching.

“I will try and speak to him, but I can’t imagine I could sway him in this. But to be trained by my brother is an honour in itself, you could benefit much from his guidance.”

“You think I need shapin’ up?” Jesse said in mock offence. “Look at this body and tell me it needs improving.” He sucked in his gut and flexed his arms, making Genji laugh.

“Truly my brother has his work cut out for him.”

“You know me, Genji,” Jesse dipped his hat low over his eyes with a grin, “I’ve always been a handful.”


	2. Chapter 2

Jesse, as a rule, didn’t use alarms of a morning. He found them loud, rude, intrusive things that had no place in the bedroom. Either someone came to wake him up for a mission or he woke when his body wanted him to wake. Back home in the lazy southern heat, there was never any rush to be anywhere and Jesse had carried that mentality with him. 

That was why it was so surprising when an extremely loud, shrill, repetitive beeping woke him the next morning.

Jesse didn’t know how long the racket had been going on for before the noise had bled into his dreams and roused him. When he did eventually wake, it took him a fair few seconds to understand the situation. After he ruled out a base wide alert calling them to action, an other uprising of the omnics or the world ending in general, he realised the noise was coming from his phone. It was flashing obnoxiously and vibrating so violently that it rattled along the nightstand, threatening to fall off.

Jesse grabbed for it, fingers still heavy and clumsy from sleep, then peered blearily at the screen, half his face still pressed into the pillow. On the screen the words ‘wake up’ glared at him in stark white letters.

He stared at the words for a good few moments trying to understand why his phone was telling him this before he put two and two together. Hanzo.

So he’d gone from breaking and entering to just messing with Jesse’s personal effects, it was a progress of sorts. Jesse was really going to have to work out how he kept getting into his room to do this kind of thing.

He swiped the alarm off, and dropped the phone back onto the pillow. It wasn’t as bad as an arm to the throat as a wake up but it was close. 

An other reason why Jesse hated alarms was that they just didn’t work for him. This was a man who had awoken from a nap at the sound of a bomb being dropped near their base camp, and then fallen back to sleep just as easily once he’d been told there were no casualties. A little beeping wasn’t going to do much good. Jesse was already slipping back into a doze when the ungodly noise started up again. 

He fumbled around blindly for the phone that had gotten lost somewhere in the sheets. Recovering it, he saw that the screen had a new alarm message; ‘do not keep me waiting’.

Loud noises wouldn’t keep Jesse awake but a vague yet infinitely sinister threat from Hanzo would do the trick. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m gettin’, I’m gettin’,” Jesse said through a yawn as he turned the phone off.

He eased himself up into a sitting position, and winced. Turns out that an extreme work out after years of only light jogs and maybe some weights to keep his arms toned had some consequences. There didn’t seem to be a part of him that didn’t ache. To make matters worse, he’d hardly gotten any sleep at all. After napping for most of the previous morning and afternoon, he’d found it even harder to sleep that night than usual. If his sleeping wasn’t fucked before, it definitely was now.

After dunking his head in cold water in an attempt to feel slightly more human, giving himself a mini pep talk the bathroom mirror that included way too many John Wayne quotes, and contorting his stiff limbs into some work out gear, Jesse staggered down to the gym. He didn’t know what the time was but he was almost definitely late.

Hanzo was, of course, there waiting for him. He was sat kneeling on one of the mats with a soft, almost serene expression on his usually stern face, though his posture was as rigid as ever. When Jesse entered the room, his eyes flashed open and immediately focused on him. There went his calm expression. He didn’t move or speak, just simply watched Jesse approach him, his eyes narrow and accusatory. Jesse couldn’t help but feel like the hangman approaching the gallows.

The affect made him want to apologise for being late, to make excuses, but he pushed that down. He wasn’t completely under the man’s thumb just yet.

“Mornin’ coach,” he rumbled, sidling up to Hanzo with no show of hurrying.

“Is it still morning? I assumed it must be closer to afternoon by now,” Hanzo said, voice steady even as his words dripped with sarcasm.

“Aw hell, don’t be like that. I’m here aren’t I?”

“Then let us not waste any more time.” Hanzo stood effortlessly and Jesse’s old knees twinged in jealousy. “Go do your mile.”

Jesse wanted to stop and protest the alarm, the invasions of privacy, the ordering him about like he was a dog to heel, the running when his body felt like it was eroding from the inside and the unlawfully early hour he was forced to do it all in. But he just didn’t have the energy for an argument right now. Mostly because arguing with Hanzo was like talking to a brick wall that was just going to fall on you anyway. 

And hell, if Jesse did what Hanzo told him maybe this could actually get him back in shape and back to feeling his best. Might even help his sleeping. 

Jesse had talked himself into a slightly better mood so when he approached the treadmill, he was more willing to tackle whatever Hanzo was about to put him through.

But you know what they say about good intentions, and Jesse was definitely in hell now. When the treadmill finally rolled to a stop, Jesse feared this might be the last time he was ever going to be able to use his legs. If Hanzo had been unimpressed with his 11 minute mile the previous morning, he was definitely going to have something to say about the 17 minutes it had taken Jesse to hobble through this one. 

His legs had kept going into spasm through it, forcing him to slow down to a pitiful jog that was still agony. The only thing keeping him from calling it quits all together was the shape of Hanzo in his peripheral vision, watching him in silence.

“So I might not be breaking any world records this mornin’,” Jesse said as he eased himself down from the machine with a wince, “but I think the thing we should focus on here is that fact that I did manage to finish — Holy Mother of God!” Jesse had made it a few steps before his right leg seized up completely into immobilising cramps. He fell to his knee, clutching at his leg trying to ease the pain somehow.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Hanzo was beside him in an instant, hand on his upper arm. “Lay down.”

“Wha?” Jesse grunted unintelligently through gritted teeth.

“Do it.” He allowed himself to be pushed down so he was laying out flat on his belly. When he felt two strong thumbs dig down right into the muscle of his calf, he let out a guttural groan.

It hurt, it hurt so much Jesse felt a little out of it for a few moments. He didn’t even have his wits about him enough to feel embarrassed. He rode the pain out, focusing on Hanzo’s thumbs easing out the tension from his muscles slowly until eventually it began to lessen. 

Jesse felt dazed in the wake of it. The elation that came from the absence of pain making him light headed, almost like being high. Hanzo’s steady hands were still massaging his leg and it was starting to just feel good. He absently noted that this was the second time Hanzo had had his hands on him and how soothing it had felt both times.

Their position was almost funny, Jesse sprawled out on the ground with Hanzo kneeling over him at his legs. Jesse would have laughed if he didn’t feel so rung out. He realised a pool of drool had formed under him where his mouth had been open and panting. He felt disgusting but then again, it wasn’t the worst wet spot to make during a massage.

“I thought something like this might happen,” came Hanzo’s voice from above him.

“Could’ve given me a little warning there, coach,” Jesse said weakly. Hanzo’s hands were suddenly gone and he missed their comfort instantly. 

“You should have said if you were feeling pain. Why would you run on a potential injury?”

Jesse shifted around and sat up, gingerly easing out his leg. He gave a tired grin that was entirely for show. “Didn’t want to disappoint my coach.”

Hanzo gave a grunt of annoyance. “You are an idiot.”

“So they tell me.”

“Come, you must stretch so this does not happen again.”

Jesse went through a series of new stretches Hanzo showed him along with the old ones he usually did himself. He noted Hanzo gave him sparing ones that included his still tender right leg and for that he was infinitely grateful.

Once they were finished, Hanzo instructed him to sit so they were facing each other on the mats.

“As I do not want to risk further injury, you will not do any further exercises today.”

In that moment, Jesse could believe in a merciful higher power out there in the universe. He was going to donate to his church his parents still went back home to as soon as he was able.

“But there is something else I wish to show you before we finish for today. It is a simple breathing exercise I think will help you.”

“I know how to breathe, coach, I ain’t that dumb,” Jesse drawled. He wasn’t one for any of that yoga business, finding your breath and all that malarkey. He’d done one session with Angela once on her insistence and dozed off a few times in the process.

Hanzo gave a tsk of annoyance. “You have troubling sleeping, yes?”

“Um, yeah, how’d you know that?” 

“People usually do not sit in a kitchen in the middle of the night if they are able to sleep.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” He’d had visions of Hanzo bugging his room or hiding in the shadows while he tried to sleep.

“This technique I will show you can help you sleep in under a minute with enough practice. It will also help focus your mind during training, like how I showed you yesterday, and make it easier for you to work through the exercises. It isn’t complicated, it is simply a matter of training your body to obey it.”

“If it’s so simple, then why were you also up in the middle of the night to catch me not sleeping?”

“There is a difference between not being able to sleep and choosing not to,” Hanzo snapped, his hand clenching where they rested on his knees. Jesse decided not to push him any further, he didn’t want him going back on that ‘no more exercise today’ decision.

“It may seem simple at first, perhaps overly so, but it’s effects are dramatic. Are you ready to try it?”

“Ready and raring.”

“Sit up straighter, your posture is terrible, you will have a hunch when you are old. Better, hands on your knees. Good, now first, get rid of all your air. Exhale completely through your mouth, making a whooshing sound as you do — no, do not sound like an air craft taking off! Take this seriously!”

“I’m just doing as you said!”

“A natural whoosh, the sound you make as you release air. There, that’s it. Now, take a breath through your nose, quietly — I said _quietly_ — for the count of four. Then keep that breath for a count of eight. This will give the body enough oxygen to put it in a relaxed state. Now release through your mouth slowly, eking out the breath for an other count of eight, again with a whooshing sound. You repeat that cycle three more times for a total of four breaths.”

“That it? I don’t feel any different.”

Hanzo let out a frustrated noise. “Typical impatient american expecting results immediately after one try!”

“You just hyped this up rather a lot for just some breathin’, is all. I was expecting to see Jesus or something.”

“I have not even finished explaining the process and you complain! Be patient!” Hanzo then muttered something under his breath in Japanese that Jesse wouldn’t be able to understand even if he could hear, but he could guess it was along the same lines of him being an idiot american. 

“Look, I’m sorry, alright. I wanna learn, please show me properly.” This seemed to placate Hanzo a little even though it was mostly a lie. Jesse really couldn’t care less about this.

“Very well, first close your eyes.” Jesse didn’t feel entirely comfortable letting his guard down in front of a still pissed Hanzo but complied anyway. “While you are doing this process, I want you to imagine a place where you truly felt peaceful. It does not matter if you cannot remember it perfectly, just try and recapture the feeling you had while you were there. After some time, this feeling should come naturally to the exercise and you will feel that same peace on instinct. Think of the place now before we begin.”

Jesse had to restrain a sigh. This was sounding a lot like what Angela had tried to put him through with her yoga bullshit but to appease Hanzo he’d give it a go. 

His first thought was of his childhood room back at his parent’s old place. A cramped little thing at the top of the house, movie posters lining the walls with a massive one of Eastwood just above his bed. His name was craved into the headboard of the small bed that he’d done with his first knife that his dad had given him. He’d had his first kiss in that room. Gotten his first slap there too. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged his lips just thinking about the place. 

But then he remembered the last time he’d been there, when he’d laid awake most of the night staring up at the ceiling trying to memorise every detail of it, listening to his ma’s muffled crying downstairs through the floorboard. His suitcase had sat at the end of the bed with only the few things he could take with him when he’d leave with Reyes the next morning onto whatever he’d bargained his life away for.

He didn’t like thinking about that. Of the life and people he’d left behind so he moved on, racking his brain for an other place he’d felt at peace.

It was strangely hard. Jesse was a happy guy, not that much to complain about in the grand scheme of things. Well, compare to the others round him. Normal people might think otherwise. Being in his line of work just didn’t give him many peaceful moments.

He was just about to lose his patience with the whole thing and tell Hanzo the practice was stupid when a random memory came to mind.

It wasn’t even that special, just an other mission in a long line of them. They were somewhere on the outskirts of Bangladesh on a simple extraction job. It wasn’t blackwatch so Jesse hadn’t had to worry about what line he was going to be asked to cross next. He’d felt light under the freedom of it. 

It was damn hot for that time of year so when their team had come across a small clear spring in the jungle they’d all but begged Jack for a break to cool off. He’d eventually grunted approval then disappeared with Reyes to talk about strategy or whatever it was they did together.

It had been nice. They were far enough away from any civilisation to not hear any sounds of people or traffic. Just the noises of the jungle with sparkling water and greenery all around them. It had been like they’d carved out a little paradise for themselves where no one else could touch them or need them.

Whatever purifiers that’d been put in the water had made it taste sweet and given the air around the spring a flowery sent, too strong to ever be natural. He could almost smell it again now. Jesse had charged ahead of the others, flinging the last of his clothes behind him as he went, wanting to be the first person in the water for some reason. 

He’d gotten into a splashing match with Lena at one point much to the annoyance of everyone else. Eventually she’d just popped up behind him and plunged him under completely. When he resurfaced he’d laughed so hard and loud he’d sounded like a dopey kid again. After, he’d spread out on the bank and let the sun dry him off, listening to his team mate laughing and talking around him, and it was like all his troubles had evaporated along with the water just for that afternoon.

“Have you got something?” Hanzo’s voice disturbed him from the memory and he opened his eyes to find him staring back at him, expression blank.

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

“Good, now lets try the whole process from the beginning.”

*

Leaving the gym some time later Jesse had to admit he felt… good. Like he’d shed something he didn’t even know he was carrying. He was still walking with a slight limp and felt dog tired but inside, he felt better than he had done in weeks.

What he really wanted now was some human interaction, to feel the camaraderie he remembered feeling in that sweltering heat over a decade ago. After a shower and something to eat, he roamed the base looking for company until he heard the sound of laughter and followed it.

A cluster of the younger team members were lounging around in one of the rec rooms, all focus on the massive screen that spread across most of the far wall. Lucio and Hana were battling it out in some video game that had copious amounts of gun fire and screaming. Lena was perched on one of the sofa’s arm rest, almost shaking with excitement, shouting encouragement to Lucio, who was yelling back something in Portuguese. It appeared that not even their combined efforts could hope to match Hana’s skills. 

When Jesse sidled up to the open door throwing out a “howdy” to the room, he was met with a barrage of cheerful greetings, and was beckoned inside. He took a seat at the far end of one of the sofas, accepting the soda he was tossed, and relaxed, settling in for the rest of the afternoon. The others didn’t seem to mind him just watching, soon getting so caught up in the game they seemed to forget he was even there. 

Jesse watched the screen for a while before accepted that he had no idea what was going on. He didn’t even know what characters Hana and Lucio were playing as. He didn’t mind though, he just enjoyed listening to the banter between the others; Lena getting far too loud with enthusiasm over a game she wasn’t even playing, Lucio’s groaning in defeat yet again and Hana’s blisteringly good smack talk. This was what he wanted, just to soak up the atmosphere of people who hadn’t become jaded yet and for whom all of this hero stuff was still fun. 

Even the gun fire in the game, fake as it sounded, was soothing and Jesse closed his eyes to it, smiling. 

He let his mind wandered to nothing at all before, almost inevitably, coming back to Hanzo. He was too much of a mystery for Jesse to leave alone. Here was a guy fully prepared to devote his time improving the life of a complete stranger when he himself was still a total mess. Sure it was easier to focus on anything but your own problems but Hanzo didn’t seem like the kind of guy who ran from a fight, even if it was with his own demons.

And why Jesse? Why single him out in particular? Was it simply because he’d just been the first person he’d had a conversation with at the base? No one else had seemed to have had any contact with him or even seen him when Jesse had asked at dinner the pervious night. Or was it really like Hanzo had said, because he’d seen Jesse’s skills on the field and wanted to polish him up again? If that really was the case, well damn, it felt nice to be appreciated again, not matter in what capacity. 

Jesse’d spent so much time alone these last few years he hadn’t realised how much he’d just missed people, friends, anyone to form some kind of connection with. Maybe Hanzo was like him, just looking to feel a little less lonely.

Lena screamed so loudly that Jesse was jolted from his stupor and sloshed some of his drink down himself.

“Oh bugger, sorry about that,” she said but she was still giggling, bouncing happily on the spot as a new winner title flashed on the screen. Looks like Lucio had finally won one.

“No worries,” Jesse said, shaking out his soaked hand, “just nice hearing your lovely laugh, little missy.” Lena threw a cushion at his head and told him to fuck off which made Jesse chuckle.

“Come on, big man,” Lucio tossed him the controller, “take over for me. I know to quit while I’m ahead.”

After an afternoon of getting his ass kicked at video games, all the while continually protesting that virtual shooting was nothing like using a gun in real life, Jesse turned in early. He was more exhausted than he had any right to be after a day of hardly doing anything but as soon as he flopped into his bed, the sun barely set in the sky, he was out like a light for the first time in weeks.

*

After Jesse turned off the still terrible alarm the next morning, he realised he felt — well not good, it was still quarter to six in the morning after all — but definitely not as bad as he had been feeling lately.

He was actually whistling when he arrived on time at the gym, the pain in his leg replaced by a slight spring in his step.

“You are unusually jovial,” Hanzo said by way of greeting, as if this was something to be suspicious about.

“Just feelin’ good about life this mornin’, coach.”

“I’ll take that to mean you are recovered enough to continue your training. Let us hope you make it passed your warm up today.”

Not even prickly Hanzo could dampen Jesse’s mood. He ran his mile, a respectable 9 and a half minutes, then got stuck in with the routine Hanzo had devised for that day. 

Hanzo appeared to have realised that Jesse was in no fit state to handle the regime he’d first attempted, so had cut the work out down by about half with only two sets of reps a piece instead of four. Jesse’s slight humiliation over the fact was lessened by how much easier he found it to manage and was still in good spirits even as he grunted and sweated through it.

The main problem he had now was how boring he found that whole thing. Usually he’d have music blaring as he worked out to keep him inspired and focused but he could already imagine Hanzo’s reaction to that if he asked. He was nearly done with the session when he felt his mind wandering.

“Ow, what was that for?” Jesse whined, rubbing at the spot on his thigh that Hanzo had just pinched.

“You were not focusing on the task at hand. This is perhaps the most crucial exercise to be wary of your breathing and requires all your concentration.”

“Jesus, it’s only sit up,” Jesse grumbled. He flopped back onto the ground, pushing his hair out of his eyes, and took a moment to get his breath back. Maybe Hanzo had been right about the breathing thing. Again. 

Hanzo loomed over him disapprovingly, making Jesse feel a little on edge having him so close. He’d insisted on kneeling on Jesse’s feet to keep them firmly on the ground as he did the sit ups, as apparently he kept doing them wrong before.

“Take each exercise seriously or you will get yourself hurt again.”

Determined not to let this bring him down, Jesse swallowed any reply he wanted to give and returned to the sit ups making sure to keep eye contact with Hanzo the whole time, lest he think for one second he wasn’t concentrating hard enough. 

It made for very uncomfortable work, especially when he sat up so far that their face’s were level with each other, but at least it kept Hanzo quiet. 

With nothing to keep his mind occupied, Jesse instead focused on his surroundings. He was hyper aware of the strain of his stomach with every pull, the dull ache in his feet from where Hanzo was putting pressure on them, the rustle of the fabric from Hanzo’s clothes brushing against the bare skin of his ankles. Jesse was vaguely wondering where Hanzo managed to still get one armed yukatas outside of Japan when he realised he hadn’t seen the other man in anything other than those clothes since he’d first met him.

“You not got any other work out gear?” Jesse asked unthinkingly into the silence.

“What?”

“You’re just always wearin’ that same yukata, even when we’re training.” 

Hanzo blinked down at him, expression suddenly furious, and for one startling moment, Jesse thought he was going to hit him. Then Hanzo simply turned away, finally breaking eye contact and, most shocking of all, blushed. Somehow it was even worse than getting punched.

“Not that it’s any of my business or nothin’.”

“You’re right, it is none of your business.” 

Jesse immediately dropped the subject, wishing now more than ever that they had some music going to drown out the now unbearable silence as he finished up.

“Today was a large improvement on before. I expect to keep seeing this progress,” Hanzo said curtly once he was done.

“Uh, yeah thanks, coach.” Jesse felt the itching need to clear the air and apologise for before. Jesse couldn’t tell if Hanzo’s cool silence was just him being Hanzo or if he was still pissed. Unfortuanlty, Hanzo was already out the door before he’ decided to do anything.

He hadn’t meant to embarrass the guy like that, Jesse just asked dumb questions sometimes. Reyes had berated him for his lack of filter from his brain to his mouth on many occasions.

The unsettling guilt still nagged at Jesse for the rest of the day. He didn’t get why he felt so bad. He’d put his foot in his mouth around Hanzo more than enough times, and Hanzo clearly didn’t have a problem ripping into him. What did he care if Hanzo didn’t have any other clothes with him? It wasn’t like he smelled or anything. Hanzo being such a clean freak probably meant his yukata was far cleaner than anything Jesse owned. Still, he just couldn’t get Hanzo’s reaction out of his head. His expression when he brought it up had just seemed sort of…. pathetic.

It was a strange word to associate with the man. Nothing about Hanzo had ever seemed anything but proud. Jesse didn’t like thinking of him in that way, it felt disrespectful somehow.

Regardless, the fact was Jesse felt bad and he decided he wanted to do something about it. His ma always told him the best way to make peace with a man was to appease his stomach, but Hanzo might consider it an even greater insult if Jesse presented him with any of his cooking.

Jesse was wandering gloomily around the base, cigarillo between his teeth, at a loss for what to do when an idea struck him. Never one to overthink a plan, he hurried over to one of base’s port computers that were dotted around and searched the building’s schematics for the location of the stock room.

He had the bit between his teeth now and once he’d found it, he dashed over there without a second thought.

Being a military group, the base’s stock room was extremely large, more like a warehouse than a room, filled with an assortment of items from weaponry to cleaning supplies. It took Jesse about half an hour searching through the many looming aisles of the room to find what he was looking for. 

He pulled down a crate from the shelves marked ‘Overwatch gear’ and prised off the lid. Inside neatly stacked was watered down versions of the overwatch uniforms that had been commissioned when the group had become so big civilians wanted to buy into the brand. The merch had been handed out like candy to all overwatch members when it’d first come out and Jesse had thought it was badass, and sent as much as he could get his hands on back home to the family. After the team’s fall from grace, the stuff had just been left in places like this, untouched and unwanted.

These clothes weren’t exactly what Jesse was looking for, so he set that crate aside and pulled down an other and this time he struck gold. It was filled with sports gear; track suits, shorts, t-shirts, sweatshirts, tank tops, even god damn socks. All black and all with the yellow and white overwatch crest emblazoned on them. The team’s marketing department had truly been shameless back in the day.

Jesse rummaged around and even found a stack of tote bags right at bottom. He filled one up with a complete set of clothing, throwing in a couple extra socks and t-shirts while he was at it. He reckoned Hanzo was about a medium in the leg and a large in the chest, what with those bull shoulders of his.

Gifting this to Hanzo was a great way to welcome him onto the team, show a gesture of good will _and_ give him some work out gear all at the same time. Jesse was truly a genius.

Thoroughly pleased with himself and utterly convinced this was the best idea he’d ever had, he put the crates back in place and sauntered out the room, bag slung over his shoulder, whistling the victory music from Hana’s video game as he went.

*

Jesse entered the gym the next morning five minutes early and grinning like an idiot. He’d been so hyped up about seeing Hanzo’s reaction to the new clothes he’d been awake long before his alarm had gone off.

Hanzo was already there waiting for him, and Jesse had to wonder just how early he got there in advance every day or if he ever even slept at all.

“Beautiful mornin’, coach.” Jesse’s good mood got him the typical suspicious narrowed eyed expression Hanzo gave him when Jesse did something he didn’t understand, which happened a lot.

“What’s that you have with you?” Hanzo asked, gesturing to the bag in Jesse’s hand.

“I’m pleased as punch you asked,” Jesse grinned, sticking his hand out to offer the bag to Hanzo. “It’s just a little something for you.”

Hanzo took the bag a little hesitantly, looking questioningly at Jesse as he did as if he was expecting him to snatch it back at any moment.

“Go on, it ain’t a bomb or nothin’. Look inside.”

Hanzo opened the bag and pulled out the sweatshirt that lay on top and held it up, looking at it like he’d never seen anything like it before in his life.

“It’s workout gear! Now you can have something else to wear while we train!” Jesse’s smile couldn’t get any broader as he waited with excitement for Hanzo’s reaction. He was currently just staring at the garment in complete bewilderment. “It’s all Overwatch official and everything.”

“I am richer than you,” Hanzo said abruptly.

“Beggin’ your pardon there, coach?” Jesse said, giving a nervous little laugh.

“My family’s wealth is vast and if I wished to access it, I could buy any garment I desired. I do not need this pity.” Hanzo dropped the bag and sweatshirt unceremoniously on the ground without looking at them.

“No, no, oh God, no, look Hanzo, I’m not giving this to you out of pity. Jesus, just— no!” Jesse said horrorstruck. “We all got this stuff free when it first came out! It’s all just lying unused in crates. I just thought you might—“

“I saw how you looked at me yesterday. The poor Japanese tourist far from home with nothing to his name. You think I need your help, your generous american charity? I do not.”

This was wildly getting out of hand. It was definitely not the reception Jesse had anticipated. It wasn’t like he was expecting Hanzo and him to become BFFs after this but he had at least thought Hanzo might _like_ the clothes.

“I never thought you needed my charity! I just felt bad because I made you uncomfortable yesterday and wanted to make it up to you. This wasn’t meant to be an insult or… I dunno know, offend your honour! I’ve never thought of you as someone that needed help, I didn’t even think you really needed this stuff. I just wanted to give you a friendly gesture. Make you feel like you’re part of the team now, y’know?” Jesse ran his hand through his hair, fully aware he was babbling but he felt like he couldn't stop until he made Hanzo understand him. “Jesus, Hanzo, you’re the most proud guy I know, I would never do anything I thought would tarnish that.”

Hanzo had been watching him in steely silence as he talked, his expression unreadable. Jesse had no idea if he’d gotten through to him or if he was just planning the best way to kick his ass.

“Look, I can just take it all back, just forget it.” Jesse reached down to where the bag had spilled out on the floor but stopped when Hanzo held up a hand.

“Turn around.”

“Turn around?” Jesse repeated a little fearfully. Surely Hanzo’s honour prohibited him beating up a guy with his back turned.

“So I may change.” Jesse stared blankly at him for a moment before he processed what he had said.

“Oh, _oh_. Yeah, sure.”

Jesse quickly whirled around, feeling almost giddy with relief. He heard the rustling of clothing behind him, indicating that Hanzo was removing his yukata, and felt a blush creep up his face. He tried to keep his mind focused on anything but the mental picture of Hanzo’s current state of undress just meters away from him. He’d just convinced Hanzo that he wouldn’t do anything to dishonour him, he couldn’t go back on his word seconds after saying it.

“You may turn back around,” Hanzo said after a few minutes. Jesse was relieved he could finally stop trying to distract himself by remembering all 50 states of America as he’d gotten stuck at about 34.

Jesse turned to see that Hanzo had changed into the sweatshirt and sweatpants and he made quite the sight. The sleeves of the jumper had been too long so he’d rolled them back to free his hands and he’d tucked the pants into his metallic boots making him look completely ridiculous. His hair had gotten rumpled from his usual perfect tie when he’d changed so he looked like he had a bad case of bed head. He was tugging at the collar of the jumper like he was unused to having such constriction around the throat. 

“Well, how does it look?” Hanzo asked and Jesse noted he was blushing slightly but held his chin up high as if daring Jesse to laugh at him.

“Hey, wow you look—” the word Jesse desperately wanted to use here was cute, because Hanzo looked damn near adorable. He wanted to pinch his cheeks and ruffle his hair some more but he refrained as he wasn’t suicidal. “You look really good! Like you’re going to kick some ass!”

Hanzo gave a small pleased smile, his blush deepened a little, and Jesse felt like it was all completely worth it for this moment.

“We have wasted enough time. Let’s get on with today’s work.”

They didn’t talk much for the rest of the session but Jesse caught Hanzo looking at himself in the gym’s mirrors a few times and had to restrain a grin.

“An other good session today,” Hanzo said once they’d finished and Jesse thought so too. The new regime worked for him; it incorporated enough exercises that played both to Jesse’s strengths and weakness that it wasn’t too much of a slog to get through. Hanzo was actually a pretty damn good trainer. “Keep practising your breathing before you go to sleep too.”

“You got it, coach.” Jesse threw him a two fingered salute, then headed off to the showers.

“Oh, Jesse,” Hanzo called after him, making Jesse pause. That was the first time Hanzo had called him by his first name. “Thank you for the clothes.” He gave Jesse a smile that made Jesse’s stomach do a sort of half flop.

“Think nothing of it, coach,” Jesse grinned back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That breathing technique is an actual process if you want to try it. It's good for anxiety.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the update took so long on this chapter. Had a lot of life stuff going on that ate up all my time. Just a silly chapter before some big plot-y stuff in the next one.
> 
> Anyone up for some breakfast?

Of all of the exercises Hanzo put Jesse through in their sessions, bench presses were easily his favourite. He’d kept his arms in relatively good shape over the years — he liked his guns at the same standard of his actual guns — so it was nice to actually be competent at something in front of Hanzo for a change. And if Jesse had started wearing tank tops to the sessions which showed off his arms better than his t-shirts did, well, that was just a coincidence.

Hanzo stood at the head of the machine, hovering. The severity he took his duty in spotting Jesse would almost be touching if he didn’t show the exact same level of intensity towards everything else he did.

He’d bumped up the weights by an extra few pound since Jesse’s first session, and Jesse was feeling pretty damn good about himself until his stomach gave an embarrassingly large rumble.

“Heh, pardon me. Belly’s gettin’ a little eager to get to breakfast.” He glanced up at Hanzo, and from upside down it almost looked like Hanzo was smiling. Or maybe that was a frown. It was really hard to tell from the wrong way up.

“No apologies necessary.”

Jesse pushed through a few more presses but it was getting hard to concentrate now he’d been reminded how hungry he was.

“Y’know what I could really go for right now?” Jesse said as he grunted through an other press. “Belgian waffles.”

“‘Belgian waffles’?” Hanzo repeated back slowly, like he was trying to dissect the words.

“Yeah, y’know like battered…wafer cake type things. You never had waffles before?”

“I have not. And I can’t say I feel much regret over it.”

“Aw, they’re the best. You have ‘em with lots of syrup ’n' whipped cream. Damn, I can almost taste them now.”

“That does not sound like a very suitable breakfast,” Hanzo sniffed disapprovingly, “More like dessert.”

“You can have them with fruit too, if you’re looking to be healthy.” Hanzo’s scathing looks were just as cutting from upside down it turned out.

“Best waffles I ever had were at this diner back in Santa Fe. I don’t know what they did to ‘em but God, I could never find any that could compete. I begged Nancy — that’s the cook at the place — to tell me what she put in them, but she’d never spill. Said I’d just have to keep coming back to get ‘em.” Jesse moved to set the weights back in their place and Hanzo’s hands were there in an instant to help him. 

“Haven’t actually been back there since I joined overwatch.” Jesse sat up, rolling out his shoulders and sighing when he heard them pop. “I wonder if the place is even still around.”

“This Santa Fe, you are from there?” Hanzo asked curiously.

“Born and raised. Was there until I got recruited.”

“And you were happy there?” Jesse laughed at the oddity of the question.

“Geez, I guess. I was a pretty dumb kid. Could be entertained if you gave me a gun and something to shoot. I got into a lot of trouble and did some mighty foolish things, but yeah, I’d say I was.”

Hanzo nodded but judging from the far away look in his eyes, Jesse didn’t suppose he was still thinking about Santa Fe.

“What about you, you miss Japan?”

“I miss the food. If you were to have one meal in Japan you would quickly forget about those battered cakes.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Jesse chuckled. “I was young when I left home. Can’t remember that much about it anymore to be honest. Reached that point where I don’t know if what I’m remembering is just what I want it to have been like, or how it actually was. I guess for you it’s much more strange, having just left there and all.”

Hanzo smoothed a hand down his beard, nodding absently, eyes still far from the room. “Japan is the only country where I have lived but to call it home would not be fitting. It is simply where I existed.”

Jesse rolled his eyes and gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder, which jolted him from his stupor. “Even for you, coach, that’s pretty damn bleak.”

Hanzo look down to where Jesse had tapped him then back up at him, affronted. “Why did you do that?”

Sometimes it was easy to forget just how socially odd Hanzo was. “Just a sign of affection, is all.”

“I did not know assault could be affectionate.” 

“You put me through more pain in this work out than that tap caused,” Jesse laughed and threw an other gentle jab at him, fists up in a fighting stance, but Hanzo ducked away. 

“I am missing Japan increasingly more with every moment I spend with you. Come, hurry up and do your cool down, then you can go get your unhealthy breakfast.”

And that was the most motivational thing Hanzo had said all session. Jesse finished up in record time and was happily bounding out the gym when he paused. He turned back and watched Hanzo in the big empty gym putting away the mats, still looking ridiculous but adorable in the oversized clothes Jesse had given him the previous day. 

“Hey coach, y’know I was thinking,” Jesse said, walking back into the room, “I can’t in good conscience leave a man knowing he’s never ate a waffle in his life. It’s my duty to correct this injustice.”

Hanzo turned to look at him, eyebrow raise. “I have little interest in trying such a dish.”

“Ah, but there is _some_ interest! Come ’n' join me for breakfast, I can show exactly how they should be eaten.” 

“Breakfast in the mess hall?”

“Yeah, where else would we eat?”

“I have never… “ Hanzo trailed off, seemingly struggling to find the words to explain what he meant. Jesse waited a beat, clueless as to why Hanzo would have a problem eating there. He then remembered how none of the others had seen hide nor hair of Hanzo yet and Genji’s words;

_He was never good at making friends._

“You’d be doing me a favour, actually,” Jesse said, running a hand through his tousled hair, “I usually eat on my lonesome, so it’d be nice to have some company.”

“ _You_ eat alone,” Hanzo asked shrewdly, “I find that hard to believe.”

“What, it’s true! Cross my heart and hope to die.” He mimed drawing a cross over his chest.

“You continue to make little sense to me,” Hanzo said in a way Jesse could say with almost certainty sounded fond, “but I shall join you for a meal just this once. I will not, however, be eating that dish.”

Jesse grinned in triumph and clapped a sweaty arm around Hanzo’s shoulders. “Y’know what, I’ll take it. But you’re trying a waffle if it kills me.”

*

The mess hall was thankful relatively empty when they arrived. Hanzo had been tense the whole walk there, continually untying and retying the belt of his yukata he’d changed into, and didn’t relax even when he saw such a small gathering in the room. 

“Mornin’ all,” Jesse said cheerly to the room. That was met with a bleary greeting from a few, except Reinhardt, who boomed a great “Good Morning, dear friends” along with an exuberant wave across the room.

Jesse waved back then hooked a hand under Hanzo’s arm where he was standing stiffly and steered him over to the refrigerated counters where the food was served.

“Right so this is like a buffet kinda thing. You can take whatever you want from all this cold stuff, or if you want something hot, just ask Hendon to make it.”

“You just… take anything?” Hanzo asked, eyes narrowed. “Where do you pay for it?”

“You don’t pay,” Jesse chuckled, “you can just have it. Perks of being Overwatch. God, how have you even being survivin’ here all this while.”

Hanzo ignored the question and continued to eye the spread suspiciously. “You go first.”

“Fine, but you need to relax, ok? I’m not tryna trick you into anything here, it’s just breakfast.” When the scowl didn’t disappear from Hanzo’s face, Jesse just rolled his eyes then called out “Hey Hendon, you back there?”

After a long paused, an omnic appeared in the doorway of the kitchen at the back behind the food counter. Upon seeing Jesse, it beeped happily. He was rather stout with two sets of long, thin arms that folded around him and tree trunk like legs. A small tablet was in one of the hands and a stylus in an other. He had a flowery apron tied around his wide middle.

“Good morning, Mr McCree,” he greeted in a synthetic, clipped, english accented voice, “and a new member I have not cooked for before, hello to you too.”

“Mornin’ Henny, this is Hanzo.” Hendon held out one of it’s many hands for Hanzo to shake. Hanzo ignored it, staring stonily back at him. “He’s, um, kinda shy,” Jesse added with a nervous laugh.

“Not to worry, not to worry,” Hendon said, sounding unaffected by Hanzo’s rejection.

“Y’know a man could die of hunger waiting for you,” Jesse said, patting his stomach with a wink.

“Apologies, I did not think anyone else was down yet. I was rather consumed by an engrossing crossword puzzle. Any thoughts on ‘able to forgive a minor offence, six letter’?”

“You’re asking the wrong guy here, I ain’t good for nothin’ till I’ve eaten.”

“The answer is ‘venial’,” Hanzo said bluntly.

“Ah, yes, yes, yes! Of course, what a clever fellow you are!” Hendon scribbled down the answer into the tablet and beeped happily when it fit. “Now, what can I get for you today.”

He looked expectantly at Hanzo who in turn turned to look at Jesse. “Ah yeah, I’ll go first. I’ve got a mighty cravin’ for some Belgian waffles, reckon you could rustle me some up?” 

“Certainly, with whipped cream and syrup?”

“You know just how I like it,” Jesse grinned. Hendon bustled back into the kitchen again, humming tinnily. 

The moment he was gone, Hanzo gripped Jesse’s forearm tight and tugged him round to face him. “How could you let that thing touch your food?” he hissed.

“What, _Hendon_? Jesus, he’s been with us since the original overwatch days, he’s good!”

“You do not know what it could be putting in your food.”

“Eggs and flour, I’d assume. I think he throws in a little cinnamon too, I’m onto him about that.”

“He’s… he’s a machine,” Hanzo spat like it was an offensive word.

“So’s just about everything else in this building, coach.”

“It is not natural. To speak to it as if it were a human like you do.” Hanzo looked genuinely upset behind the usual anger, like he desperately wanted Jesse to understand the danger he was in. Though Hendon being dangerous was just about the most ridiculous thing Jesse’d ever heard. He’d literally seen the omnic cry over spilled milk before. 

“Coach, I don’t know what’s got you so worried about this but he’s perfectly safe. If Hendon was planning on doing anything, I think he’d’ve done it about fifteen years ago. We’ve all been eating his food for a long while without anyone dropping dead. What you got against omnics, anyhow? In this day and age it ain’t right to be talking like that.”

“After what has become of my brother, I think I am well within my right to speak as I do!” Jesse blinked at Hanzo for a moment, mouth open, unsure what to say. This was a far too serious conversation for Jesse to have before food and coffee. Thankfully that was the moment Hendon returned, bustling through the kitchen door with a plate piled high with steaming waffles.

“I threw in a few more than usual as you seemed extra hungry today” he said, sliding Jesse’s plate on the counter. “But you can’t let the others know, in case I am accused of favouritism."

“Aw shucks, Henny, I could kiss you.”

“Please refrain from doing so, Mr McCree. Now, what can I get for you, Mr Hanzo?”

“Nothing, this is all I require,” Hanzo said quickly, swiping an orange from a tall fruit bowl.

“Jesus, no it certainly ain’t! Don’t you know this is the most important meal of the day? Look at all the stuff they have here!”

“I am not a child, do not coddle me,” Hanzo said through gritted teeth.

“I’d love to, coach. I’ll do so just as soon as you stop acting like one.”

“My word, I think I left something on the stove,” Hendon said sounding flustered, “If you gentlemen will excuse me.” He quickly swivelling around and exited back where he came.

“Look, now you’ve made Hendon all nervous! Last time he got in state he made thirty-eight soufflés back to back. We had to reboot him to make him stop.” 

“You expect me to care about the sensibilities of a machine?” Hanzo scoffed. “You are a bigger idiot than I thought.”

“Ok, ok, look,” Jesse sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just to shut me up, let me make you up a bowl of something. You can leave it if you don’t want it.” He half expected Hanzo to kick up more of a fuss or maybe even leave, but instead he just let out a huff and crossed his arms. Maybe he was hungrier than he liked to let on.

Turning to look at the spread before them, Jesse realised had no clue what Hanzo would normally eat, never having had Japanese food before, but he figured he couldn’t go wrong with lots of fruit, granola and yogurt. 

Jesse raised his flesh hand, wiggling his fingers. “Look, no robot hand touchin’ your food, you’re safe.” Hanzo just gave him a withering look. Jesse set about making Hanzo up a bowl. He checked Hanzo’s reaction to everything he chose; if it only received a disdainful sniff, it went in the bowl. 

“There now, that looks a bit more substantial. Gotta keep you big ’n' strong. Now, whadda ya drinking? Coffee?”

“Yes,” Hanzo said quickly, “Coffee. Lots of it.” At last something they both agreed on. 

The base had it’s priorities right and had a high end coffee maker, paired with imported African beans.

“You know, a machine made that coffee,” Jesse said as he watch Hanzo take a sip from his freshly brewed mug.

“I do not see you trying to engage the coffee pot in small talk though,” Hanzo shot back. Jesse raised his hands in surrender, knowing from his little experience with Hanzo that there was a cut off point with how far he was willing to be pushed and it was pretty short, then grabbed both their trays and led them over to a free table by the window.

“Try not to get too jealous now while you watch me tuck in. I would offer you a bite but y’know.” Jesse gave a half shoulder shrug as he slid both trays on the the table then tumbled down onto his seat.

“I’m sure I’ll be able to endure.” Hanzo took the seat opposite, eyes darting about the room as if expecting to be ambushed at any second. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat for a moment before asking in a hesitant voice that was clearly meant to sound casual, “does… Genji usually take breakfast in here?”

“Nah, he doesn’t eat, you see,” Jesse said, hacking off an impractically large chunk of waffle.

“I— I didn’t know that.” Hanzo looked glumly out the window.

Jesse crammed the waffle segment into his mouth, dripping syrup and cream all over the table and humming loudly at the taste. That at least was enough to disturb Hanzo from his melancholy. He muttered something low under his breath, plucking a paper napkin from the tray then dabbing at the mess Jesse had made.

“Whassat?” Jesse mumbled around his mouthful.

“I said, it is like being at a petting zoo watching you eat. It is greatly unpleasant.”

“All part of my charm,” Jesse shrugged, jamming an other slab of waffle into his mouth.

They ate in silence for a while, Jesse too focused on devouring his plate to think up conversation. Hanzo picked at his food, suspiciously examining everything before he deemed it acceptable to eat.

“Y’know,” Jesse said, levelling Hanzo with his fork and chewing through the remainder of his mouthful, “I think if you got to know Hendon you two would really hit it off. He’s great at parties, makes a mean cocktail.”

“I do not like parties,” Hanzo said, not looking up from where he was delicately peeling his orange in one long curl of peel, “And I do not drink cocktails.”

“Yeah but you’ve never had one of his Screaming Orgasms.” Hanzo choked on the segment of orange he’d just began eating and stared at Jesse in alarm.

“ _What_?”

“Apparently his Sex on The Beach is also good, and his Blue Balls. I haven’t tried them but they come with Lena’s full recommendation.” 

“You are mocking me,” Hanzo said, his cheeks and the tips of his ears bright red, “these are not names of drinks.”

Jesse ducked his head, snorting into his coffee. It was just too easy to get Hanzo rilled up sometimes. “You can unclench, I was just messin’ with you. Though they are names of cocktails — welcome to American — I’m more of an Old Fashioned man myself.”

“I am not clenched,” he said, forcibly relaxing his white knuckled fist where it had crushed his orange.

“Look, I’m sorry. Here, to make up it up to you, you really can have some of my waffles.” He leaned over the table to wave his fork, dripping with a segment of waffle, tantalisingly in front of Hanzo’s face.

“I do not want any.”

“You have to take some or I’ll think you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you but neither do I want to try your breakfast.”

“From your tone, I’m starting to think you really are mad with me, and I will keep thinkin’ that way until you take it.”

“I am not mad at you!”

“Then prove it!”

“Fine,” Hanzo hissed. He snatched Jesse’s hand to hold him steady then took the food in a furious bite. The glare he fixed Jesse with as he sat chewing was glacial, but not enough to wipe the grin off Jesse’s face.

“So, what do ya think? Pretty good, right?”

“It’s… not terrible. Hardly worth all the fuss you made.” 

Jesse excitedly drummed his hands on the table and let out a bark like laugh. “Ha, knew I could do it!”

Hanzo fixed Jesse with a suspicious glare. “What?”

“The waffles, I knew I could get you to try some!”

“You tricked me!”

“Nah, more like manipulated.”

“That does not make it better.” Jesse gave a slouching shrug. 

“But now you’ve tried something new. Not too scary, hu?”

“I was not scared,” Hanzo spluttered indignantly.

“Y’hun,” Jesse said around a grin and an other mouthful of breakfast.

“I dislike you very much.”

“Uh hu, course you do— hey,” Jesse whined, rubbing the shoulder Hanzo had just punched.

“Just a sign of affection,” Hanzo said cooly, repeating Jesse’s word from earlier. 

Jesse grinned then laughed. “You’re learnin’, pal, you’re learnin’.”

 

*

Having breakfast together after Jesse’s workouts fell into part of their routine. Jesse would make up some excuse for Hanzo to join him and Hanzo would pretend to think about it before accepting, until it just became the norm. It was all very civilised.

Several days into this new set up, Jesse was towelling off his hair after a shower and just about to meet Hanzo outside his room to go down to the mess hall together, when he saw a message flashing on his phone on the night stand.

Thinking it was Genji — Genji had been texting him frequently for updates on his brother. Jesse didn’t know how many times he could say ‘he’s scary but becoming less so’ and it still be interesting— he grabbed it to check. It was, in fact, a message alerting him that he had a package waiting for him in the postal room.

Jesse had almost forgotten all about that. Tossing the towel, he bounded out the room and almost collided with Hanzo who was hovering outside.

“Hey, coach, can you make your own way down today, just got something to do beforehand?”

Panic flashed briefly over Hanzo’s face at the idea of going to breakfast on his own, before it settled on a suspicious expression. “What do you need to do?”

“Can’t say, top secret. I’d have to kill you,” Jesse called back as he jogged down the corridor. “I’ll see you in ten!”

Hanzo was at their usual table when Jesse finally arrived at the mess hall some time later. He looked as tense as Jesse had ever seen him, but visibly relaxed when he spotted Jesse.

“Howdy, coach,” Jesse greeted excitedly, slipping into his seat, holding the package he’d just picked up awkwardly behind his back. “You got your breakfast all alright, that’s good.”

“Of course.” Hanzo sipped his coffee giving Jesse a slightly frosty look. “I am able to manage perfectly fine without your assistance.”

“Never had any doubt.”

Hanzo surveyed him shrewdly. “Why are you sitting like that? What have you got behind your back?” 

“Ok now listen, before I tell you, you gotta promise not to get mad at me.”

Hanzo set down his coffee. “Why, what have you done?”

“Nothing bad, well, I don’t think it’s bad. Just remember my intentions were good.”

“I cannot say I will not to get angry if I do not know what you have done,” Hanzo gritted out, “so just tell me what it is.”

“Not even on a ‘bonus points for trying’ basis?”  
“Jesse!”

“Alright, alright.” Jesse produced the box from behind his back with a little ‘ta-da’. “I was gonna wrap it all nice, but I don’t really know how to do that and I got too excited.”

“What is it?” Hanzo asked, taking it gingerly from Jesse.

“You gotta open it up to find that out.” Hanzo shot Jesse an annoyed look then ran his hands over the box delicately as if trying to decipher what was inside by touch alone.

“Now don’t go thinkin’ this is pity or whatever again. This is just a thank you present for taking the time to train me.” Jesse ducked his head and pulled his hat over his eyes to hide his blush. “And for being such a good coach.”

Hanzo also turned a shade of red, shifting awkwardly in his seat. Jesse watched half nervous, half excited as Hanzo finally opened the lid and pushed passed a sheet of tissue paper to reveal what was inside.

“It’s… “

“Sneakers!” Jesse finished for him. “To go with the rest of your work out clothes. You needed the full set! Now you don’t have to wear your boots to train.” Truth be told, he just couldn’t have Hanzo walking around with those great metal hooves tucked into his sweatpants. It just looked too bizarre. Plus Hanzo did deserve a thank you for all the work he’d put in for Jesse.

Hanzo lifted the colourful trainers out the box carefully, staring down at them with wide eyes.

“I got blue and yellow to —“

“Match my yukata,” Hanzo said in a quiet voice.

“Right!” Jesse grinned hopefully at him. “So, whaddya think?”

Jesse was just starting to get a little nervous with how long Hanzo was taking with his reaction when Hanzo abruptly stood, clutching the sneakers tightly to his chest.

“I have to go.”

“What, no, don’t go!” Jesse said, heart sinking. “If I’ve upset you just— “ 

“You have not, I simply… have somewhere I must be. Right now.”

“You haven’t even finished your breakfast yet!”

After taking a few hurried steps away from the table, Hanzo turned back to face Jesse and then dipped into a deep bow, face still bright red. Jesse blinked at him, mouth slightly open with shock, his own blush returning. 

Hanzo then snatched up the box the shoes came in and darted off out the room leaving Jesse reeling. That was just about the most mixed signals he’d ever gotten in such a short amount of time before. 

*

Jesse spent the rest of the day in a mood. He avoided any company, instead sitting alone in the shade of one of the more secluded gardens, chain-smoking. He was just lighting up again when his phone vibrated.

He fished it out his pocket and squinted at the screen. It was from Hanzo. Jesse wasn’t even sure he’d given him his number, but then again, he knew Hanzo had tampered with his phone at least once before. He wouldn’t put it passed him to have downloaded all the information on it while he was at it. Probably had all Jesse’s selfies.

He swiped it open and read, then reread the message.

_Jesse. I like the shoes very much. The soles are very springy. Am certain I am running faster with them but need more trials to be sure. Thank you. Hanzo._

Jesse read it a third time just to be safe, then let out a huff of laughter that turned into a louder chuckle. He tapped the phone against his chin, grinning, then typed out a reply.

_Glad you like them. We’ll have to race tomorrow to see how much faster than me you are ;) x_

He stubbed out his cigarillo then stood up to go inside. He’d been enjoying how well he’d been sleeping lately and was eager for an other early night before training tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

When Jesse was a kid the only sport he ever had any interest in was soccer. He had a distant cousin on his mother’s side who played for his local team back in Spain, and when Jesse would watch a game with his ma from time to time, he liked to pretend it was his cousin who scored every goal, regardless of what team was even playing.

It wasn’t until he was old enough to try out for his school’s team did he find his true calling in the sport; playing goal. He just had an eye for it; he could spot the ball whizzing towards him and know just where in the net it would land. He loved diving about in the mud to block it and nine times out of ten he would catch it.

His ma had hopes of him going professional, maybe even getting a sports scholarship as there was no way for them to afford any college without it. But it was around his junior year of high school that he started hanging around with the Deadlock gang and any thoughts of soccer was forgotten.

Jesse’d been mostly uninterested with any sorts of exercise since, apart from shooting, which he’d been told by many on countless occasions didn’t really count as sport, and the training Reyes had put him through back in the day, which hardly could be considered enjoyable.

These days however, Jesse felt more active than he had been since he’d worn that unflattering goalie uniform. He didn’t wheeze anymore climbing the stairs while sucking on a cigarillo and his jeans didn’t dig into his gut when he sat down. He actually enjoyed his morning workout sessions now that it wasn’t agony to get through and he’d even gotten his mile down to under seven minutes. 

Jesse hadn’t felt this good in years. And it wasn’t just his fitness that had improved.

He now eagerly awaited the mornings that he would spend in Hanzo’s company. Hanzo would always disappear somewhere or other after their shared breakfast but the time they did spend together was downright pleasant. Jesse liked to think of them as friends.

“You have grown much stronger since we first started,” Hanzo had said during their latest session, as he watched Jesse easily lift himself up over the pushup bar. Jesse couldn’t help preening a little at the compliment. “When we part ways I will not be at all concerned about having you back in the field in this condition.”

_When they part ways._

It was inevitable, really, for two such different people who were only placed together out of circumstance. He doubted Hanzo wanted to stay at this old base any more than Jesse did. He didn’t like being cooped up, that much was clear. When active duty started up again, Hanzo would probably want to keep moving like he had before. Jesse couldn’t deny that there was some appeal in staying in contact with the man after all of this. Maybe Hanzo wouldn’t mind some company from time to time.

Jesse’s mind had been so filled with the idea of Hanzo not being around any more, that when he didn’t turn up to breakfast that following morning after training, Jesse immediately began to think the worst.

Hanzo was never late. That was just a fact about him. Whenever Jesse would leave his room after changing, Hanzo would be there waiting on cue. Jesse had even tried rushing one day, just to see if he could be there first for once, and still Hanzo beat him to it.

After hanging around outside his room for while and going through a smoke to pass the time, Jesse went down to the mess hall on the assumption that Hanzo must have just left without him for some reason. When he got there, however, their usual table was empty. Jesse tried his number and got no reply. His thumb then hovered over Genji’s before he turned his phone off with a sigh.

You’re acting crazy, he thought to himself as he dejectedly walked back up to his living quarters. You just saw him twenty minutes ago. He’s not run off just yet. 

His feet carried him back to his own room on autopilot but before he’d even opened the door, he’d whirled back around and walked briskly back the way he came.

He’d go see if Hanzo was in his room, not because he was worried or anything, but because it was damned impolite to stand someone up like that. 

Although Hanzo had been to Jesse’s room on numerous occasions, at times without invitation, Jesse had never actually been to Hanzo’s, so he felt a little awkward when he was actually standing in front of his door. 

He was plucking up the courage to knock while going over his excuse for being there in his head, when he heard the sound of breaking glass coming from inside.

“Hey, Hanzo, you alright in there?” He rapped loudly on the door. “Open up, it’s Jesse.”

No further sound came. Jesse waited a moment, then tried again. “Got a lil’ worried when you were a no show for breakfast. It just don’t feel right eatin’ without your scornful commentary. Everything all right?”

When an even longer stretch of silence followed, Jesse really started to worry. What if the broken glass was a break in? Or an attacker. The Shimada clan was still after Hanzo after all. He could be lying there bleeding out behind this door and Jesse was wasting time out here.

“Oh, screw this,” he muttered to himself. He drew peacekeeper from it’s holster and fired two rounds into the lock then knocked down the door with a single kick.

The first thing he heard was a loud, very angry string of Japanese, then a very clear “You idiot cowboy!”

Hanzo was standing in the midst of what appeared to be a once very spartan room that was now thoroughly trashed. The curtains were ripped from their hooks, the bedside table thrown against the wall, the generic wall hanging’s frame was smashed and now hanging askew on the wall.

Hanzo himself looked a wreck. The singular shoulder of his yukata was torn, making the top half hang around his waist and his knuckles were grazed and bloody, steadily dripping blood onto the carpet. He was breathing hard and erratically, his expression almost wild.

“What in tarnation happened here?” Jesse asked, holstering his gun and hurrying over to him. “Are you alright? You’re bleeding.”

Hanzo flinched away from Jesse’ touch when he reached out to check his hand. “You ask me this when you are the one who just shot down my door?” 

“I thought you were being attacked.” Jesse gestured around the room. “Still kinda thinkin’ you were.”

“If I were being attacked, I assure you, I could handle it perfectly well by myself!” Hanzo voice was tight with barely contained fury. Jesse was admittedly starting to feel bad about the door now that it appeared Hanzo was in no immediate danger, but he still felt validated in his concerns. Clearly something was going on here. 

“Hanzo, look, be angry with me later. For now just tell me what happened.”

“Nothing happened, everything is fine.” Just as he said that, the wall hanging fell from its precarious perch behind him on the wall. It made a tinkling sound as it shattered.

“Yeah, clearly everything here is just peachy.” Jesse righted the desk chair that was currently laying on it’s side and plonked himself down on it, looking up expectantly at Hanzo, his arms folded. “Now, I ain’t leaving here until you give me a proper explanation.”

“Fine, why not pry into my business?” Hanzo began pacing around the room, clenching and unclenching his fists, making blood trickle down his fingers. “Everyone else seems to think it acceptable to meddle in my family’s affairs.”

“OK, calm down, start at the beginning. Who’s this doing this meddling?”

“That _thing_!” Hanzo spat, rounding on Jesse. “That _machine_ that has a hold upon my brother! I saw it on my way to you this morning, in the gardens with Genji. They were _meditating_!” He gave scathing bark of a laugh that sounded more like a cough than anything else. “How can a machine meditate? I don’t think inner peace can be found in binary code.”

“Wait, so you got in a fight with Zenyatta? In here?” Jesse asked, alarmed. God help any poor omnic that crossed Hanzo’s path when he was angry.

“I did no such thing,” Hanzo snarled, “I would not go near the thing. I left and came back here and-” he broke off awkwardly, turning slightly pink as his eyes flitted about the mess in the room. It was rapidly becoming clear to Jesse that the only person who was a threat to Hanzo in this situation was Hanzo himself.

He sighed and ran a hand down his beard. “Hanzo, look, Zenyatta has done a lot for Genji. He’s really helped him come to terms with, y’know, all that business.” Jesse gave a vague hand gesture, not knowing the proper term for what happened to Genji. Saying ‘becoming a cyborg’ seemed too sci-fi and probably not something Hanzo would react well to.

“It is filling Genji’s head with nonsense. He is not a omnic, he doesn’t need to practice their religion, if it can be called that. He is human!” Hanzo looked like he was about to start breaking things again so Jesse hastily stood.

“Why don’t we get that hand looked at, hmm? It might need stitches.”

“Genji never used to meditate,” Hanzo continued his tirade like he hadn't even heard Jesse. “The idea was laughable to him, he would mock me when I would. “What is the point?” he would say, “I can do all the sword tricks without it.” He never understood, never even tried to. He hadn’t the patience for it. Now he has become so warped by that machine, he is as unrecognisable on the inside as he is on the outside.”

“Or maybe he’s just matured,” Jesse cut in quickly. “Jesus, Hanzo, it’s been years since you knew him, decades. He’s not that kid you remember.” Jesse lifted his hat to run a hand through his hair. He felt a little out of his depth here. He’d never been good at this kind of thing. “Look, I don’t really wanna interfere with all this, it ain’t my place to, but what happened between you two, after it all, it was a big change for him. I mean, just look at him, how could you come out of that being the same person?” 

“Then he should have come to me!” Hanzo snarled. “I would have helped him!” 

“How the hell was he supposed to do that, Hanzo? You’re the one that did that to him!”

Hanzo turned and slammed his fist into the wall, breaking through the plaster, making Jesse nearly jump out of his skin.

“Jesus merciful Christ!”

“How dare you speak to me like that!” 

“You just put your fist through a wall!”

“And you shot down my door!”

“That’s not- that’s really not the point, Hanzo. My God, that was solid plaster. Are you ok?” 

Hanzo withdrew his hand steadily from the rubble. It didn’t even shake. “You do not speak to me like that.”

“OK, Ok, just… leave the poor walls out of this, alright?”

They stood in silence for a moment, Hanzo’s back still turned to Jesse, his shoulders hunched. The only sound was Hanzo’s laboured breathing. “You are right,” he eventually said, voice so quiet Jesse nearly missed it. “I did do this. All of it is my fault.”

Jesse bit his lip, silently cursing he’d ever even opened his mouth. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You did and you were right to say it. I have failed Genji in so many ways. I should have been there for him then and I should be there now but… I can’t. I can’t even face him. How can I after all I have done? He has been abandoned by his family, so he turns to what he thinks is his new one.” Hanzo turned to look back at Jesse, his eyes so open Jesse felt like he should look away. “He’s a Shimada, my brother and my blood, and yet all I do is fail him.”

“You’ve only just found out he’s alive, Hanzo, this must all be overwhelming. Just give it time. You know he’s forgiven you.”

“He deserves better than that. How could I deny him help now? After everything.” Hanzo took a deep breath that caught in his chest. 

“Hey,” Jesse took Hanzo’s hands in his and was pleasantly surprised when he didn’t get thrown off. Instead Hanzo squeezed back tight. “Just breathe, OK? Like how you taught me. Eight seconds in, eight seconds out.” Hanzo took several shaky breaths, his grip loosening with every exhale. 

“I’m not used to feeling this useless,” he forced out stiltedly. 

“Well,” Jesse said softly, “let’s go do something that reminds you that you’re not.”

*

The wind was cutting on the wide open grassy plains that stretched out behind the Overwatch base. It threatened to sweep Jesse’s hat from his head but it held firm seemingly on sheer stubbornness alone.

“Is there any reason why we must be out here in the cold for this task?” Hanzo asked bitingly, watching Jesse drag a heavy stack of machinery over to where he was standing. He’d changed into his workout clothes after Jesse had bandaged his hand but even the oversized sweatshirt did little to stop the wind slicing through him.

“Yessiree, we need the open space for this,” Jesse grunted as he lugged the machine into place. “Trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

“And are you going to explain why I needed to bring along my bow when the only target I see out here is you?”

“Why don’t you just hold your horses and I’ll explain all in good time,” Jesse gritted out as he finally got the machine more or less where he wanted it. He straightened, breathless but grinning. “Just enjoy all this fresh, clean air. Get a good lungful. It’ll clear out all the cobwebs.”

“I do not have any cobwebs,” Hanzo said haughtily. 

“‘Course you don’t.” Jesse hiked up his jean then squatted back down to peer at the contraption. “Now, if I could only work out how to turn this thing on. And yeah, I can see you glarin’, you don’t have to say anything.”

Jesse fiddled with it as Hanzo sulked and after a while it whirred into life.

“Hey, would you look at that!” Jesse jumped back up excitedly. “Easy as pie.” 

“Would you _now_ tell me what it is?”

“Well, see, what we got here is called a trap. It’s used in clay pigeon shooting.” 

“We are....going to shoot pigeons made of clay?” Hanzo looked like he was seconds away from bailing out completely.

“No, no, that’s just what it’s called! It’s some English thing, you know what they’re like, nothing makes sense over there- just listen to Lena talk for five minutes. No, this thing is gunna fire projectiles - normal, plastic, biodegradable, projectiles - into the air and we gotta shoot ‘em down. I used to do this all the time back in the day, it’s really fun.”

“I see.”

“Come on, sound a little more enthused! I ain’t gunna to make this easy. This thing’s got all kinds of settings to make it more than enough of a challenge for you.”

Hanzo folded his arms, looking from the trap to Jesse dismissively. “Show me then.”

“Alrighty, but I warn you, I’m mighty impressive when I want to be.” Hanzo scoffed but watched with interest as Jesse got in positioning a little distance from the trap. Jesse drew peacekeeper from it’s holster with only a little fanfare and shot a wink in Hanzo’s direction that got him an eyebrow raise. He then raised it up to aim into the blank canvas of the sky. “Pull!”

Hanzo jumped a little as the trap let out a bang and a thin disc shoot out of it into the air. It whizzed about in circles in the sky like a spinning firecracker. Jesse closed one eye, following the object’s process over the barrel of the revolver, then squeeze out a single round. It shattered the disk in mid air, sending the debris falling back to the ground in graceful arcs.

“Well, hot damn! Got it in one!” Jesse turned to Hanzo. “Well, what do you think, up for a go?”

“I have to admit, it is more exciting than you initially made it appear. If you’d have just told me in the first place...” 

“And spoil the surprise?” Jesse grinned as Hanzo took his place, drawing an arrow from his quiver. “Ain’t my style.”

Hanzo slotted the arrow into the cradle of the bow and raised it. “Make mine harder than your one.”

Jesse chuckled, shaking his head. “You sure about that, coach? You don’t want a little warm up first?”

“I need no warm up,” Hanzo said, bow taught. Jesse shrugged and switched the settings of the trap then stood back.

“You ready?”

“Just let it fly, cowboy.” Jesse gave a bark of laughter then, still grinning, shouted a loud “Pull!”

Two discs flew out from the trap this time. They soared around each other in large figures of eight, spinning wildly like the previous had. Hanzo stood utterly still for a few moments just watching their progress silently before releasing his arrow. It soared almost as fast as Jesse’s bullet and pierced through both discs just as they crossed in the middle of the eight. 

“Well, spank my ass and call me granny! You actually got both of ‘em!” 

“A challenge but far from impossible,” Hanzo said smugly, lowing his bow. “It was all about timing.”

“It was a shot in a million! I’m going to have trouble topping that.” Jesse clapped him on the back, beaming, and Hanzo smiled up at him a little slyly.

“I’m sure you’re man enough to manage.”

Jesse spluttered out a laugh as a blush dusted his cheeks. Did Hanzo mean what he thought he meant? “With an endorsement like that, how can I not.”

Hanzo turned back to the trap, considering it. “We have been neglecting exercising your target practice lately, it’ll be good for you to do some training in this field.”

“Coach, I think you’ll find in the area, I need no help.” Jesse cocked his revolver and flashed Hanzo another wink.

“A bold statement I’ll enjoy seeing you prove.” Hanzo was smiling, genuine and easy, as though the troubles of the morning were a very distant memory. “It’s your turn.”

The afternoon turned into a competition, each of them trying to one up the other in the increasingly challenging targets. It was exhilarating for Jesse to actually be on the same level of skill as Hanzo in something physical for once. Each time he’d see the admiration in Hanzo’s expression after he got a particularly difficult shot, he felt a rush of satisfaction. 

The challenges got more and more outlandish and after Jesse had just shot down six discs with a single pull of his trigger, Hanzo stopped him with a laugh.

“Truly you are a master of your gun, I must admit, but now I would like to see how you fare with a bow.” He held out his weapon to Jesse who just blinked down at it.

“Your bow? Are you sure?”

“I would not have offered if I didn’t mean it. I think you worthy enough to use it.”

“Shucks, coach, you got me a bit flustered here.” Jesse took the weapon from Hanzo gingerly and felt the weight of it in his hand, admiring the feel of the smooth metal and the perfect balance of it. Jesse had always thought it looked rather bulky but it was deceptively light.

“You wanna give me some pointers on my stance, coach?” he said as he got in position, aiming the bow into the air.

“Your elbow needs to be raised higher and spread your stance a little. Better.” Jesse corrected his posture, rolling his shoulders to loosen them. He wouldn’t tell Hanzo how he’d used to practice archery in his backyard all the time as a kid when he and some of the neighbourhood kids played cowboys and indians. Or how he’d had the art nailed by the time he was seven. This whole exercise was about making Hanzo feel better about himself, if Jesse had to take a few pratt falls to do so, he’d gladly do it. 

He hadn’t liked archery all that much anyway. He always wanted to be the cowboy. 

“Best give me an easy one. Give this old boy a chance.” 

Hanzo, who they had quickly discovered was far more proficient at working the trap than Jesse, changed the settings from the ridiculous six disc shooter to something more sensible. He then stood back and called for the trap to release.

A single disc was flung into the air. It spun almost sluggishly compared to the previous ones and was almost laughably easy for Jesse. He lined up his shot, ready to skewer the thing, then paused. After a moment's consideration he pulled his aim slightly to the left then released it. It flew about half a foot away from the disc and Jesse gave a dramatic sigh.

“Well, damn, this thing’s harder than it looks.”

“It was a valiant first attempt. It got very close.”

“You think so?”

“Yes, of course,” Hanzo smiled reassuringly at him and it was far, far more satisfying than nailing any shot in the world.

“You have braved using my weapon now it is only fitting that I now try yours.” Hanzo held out his hand expectantly for Jesse’s revolver. 

“You wanna use peacekeeper?” Jesse asked hesitantly.

“It seems only right we both should branch out into each other's fields. Unless you have a problem?”

No one but Jesse had ever used peacekeeper. It had been handmade specifically for him and it felt like an extension of his arm by now. More a part of him than his own prosthetic. 

But Hanzo had shared his bow with Jesse, and Jesse had seen rabid dogs more friendly than the archer, so it didn’t seem fair to deny him this now.

“No problems here, coach.” He whipped his revolver from its holster, spun it a few times then handed it handle first to Hanzo. “Knock yourself out.”

Hanzo took the revolver and studied it curiously. “What is this thing for?” he asked, gesturing to the spur on the handle.

“Ahh, well, see that’s just for decoration. Looks kinda neat, don’t you think?”

“No, I think it a hinderance. It’s likely to catch on your clothes or scratch your skin.”

“You gotta suffer for your style, coach. It ain’t easy lookin’ this good.”

Hanzo didn’t dignify that with a reply and instead held the gun up, testing the feel of it. “I have never used one of these weapons before.”

“Really? Weren’t you, like, yakuza?” Hanzo glared at Jesse over his shoulder and Jesse cursed his loud mouth yet again.

“My father thought it a clumsy, inelegant weapon. He said if you are to kill a man, you should use a weapon worthy of him. I was never allowed to touch one of these things.”

Hanzo mimed firing it into the sky and Jesse felt a little hot under his hat. Maybe he liked the look of Hanzo with his gun a little too much. “But I must admit, now that I am holding one I can understand the appeal.” He turned to Jesse, a smile tugging his lips. “I feel a little like a ‘badass mother fucker.”

Jesse burst out laughing. Never had he wanted to high five someone so badly. “That just about made my week, coach, thank you for that.”

“I shall try it for real now.” Hanzo took position, mimicking the stance Jesse took when firing with almost alarming accuracy. The only problem was, it had taken Jesse years to master that position, there was no way a first timer could nail firing with only one hand. But Jesse bit his tongue, admiring the view instead. He was sure he might have had a dream remarkably similar to this recently.

“Jesse, the trap.”

“Oh, right, yeah. Pull!”

The disc soared into the sky and this time it looked far faster to Jesse than it had when it was his turn. He watched with baited breath as Hanzo aimed then fired. The shot just grazed the disc, sending it ricocheting off course but still very much in the air.

Hanzo swore in Japanese, glaring up in the sky at the disc still buzzing around up there.

“Hey, that was pretty damn good. You nearly got it!”

“‘Nearly’ isn’t good enough.”

“For a first time, that was pretty amazing! Hey, don’t take this as any disrespect, but do you mind if I give you some pointers?” Hanzo looked at Jesse affronted for a moment, as if the very idea of needing help offended him, but then he gave a curt nod. 

“You almost nailed it, but you’d do far better with using two hands. Gives you more control. And you were all too up here, y’know, all about the shoulders. You get what I’m saying?”

Hanzo stared at him blankly.

“OK, well, see, um, do you mind?” Jesse took a step close, gesturing to ask if it was OK to touch him. Hanzo just shrugged. “See you’re used to everything needing to be all ridgid up here -” Jesse place a hand on Hanzo’s tricep -“because that’s how you shoot your bow. But really it needs to be more relaxed, get your shoulders looser.”

Hanzo rolled his shoulders then took up his position, this time using two hands, but he was still too uptight.

“Nah, see, you gotta bring everything lower, you’re not up here any more.” Jesse raised his shoulders up to his chin. “Only your hands are at level with your eye but your shoulders are loose. It helps with the recoil.”

“I don’t understand,” Hanzo snapped, getting flustered.

“Shucks, I ain’t that good of a coach like you, am I?” Jesse remembered what Genji had said about how Hanzo reacted when he didn’t understand something straight away. He had to find a better way to explain it.

“OK, look,” Jesse reached around Hanzo covered him from behind, wrapping his arms around him so he was mimicking his stance from behind. 

“What are you doing?” Hanzo said, startled.

“Best way for me to do this is to do it with you.” Their closeness meant everything Jesse said was spoken directly into Hanzo’s neck. It made Hanzo shiver. Jesse tried to focus on gun technique and ignore how neatly Hanzo fit in his arms and how nice his hair smelt.

“Right so, we bring our arms up like this, just up to the line of the eyes.” Jesse lifted Hanzo hands out straight with his own, making sure to keep the elbow locked. “Now you can see where you’re aiming down the valley of it. Next we bring the shoulders back.” Jesse used one hand to press back against Hanzo’s firm chest, making his shoulders slouch back. The action brought them even closer together, with Hanzo pressed almost completely against Jesse’s chest. “There we go. You got it!”

“I feel ridiculous,” Hanzo muttered and in his peripheral vision, Jesse could see a blush staining his cheeks.

“Yeah but it’s working. You’ll like this next part; we gotta control your breathing.”

“I already know this!”

“Ok, but just humour me.” Jesse turned his head fractionally closer to speak directly into his ear. “You wanna get this perfect, right?”

Hanzo nodded jerkily, shifting slightly under Jesse’s hold. “Alrighty, then. Take a deep breath, then release. Get a natural rhythm. We’re gunna get it nice and even, then fire in between them, alright?” Jesse felt the expansion of Hanzo chest and the beat of his pulse as he breathed. He felt warm in his hold.

“OK, I’m going to release the target now, you think you’re ready?”

“Do you?”

Jesse grinned. “I know you are.”

“Then I trust you.”

Jesse squeezed him a little tighter, then turned his head away to yell out “pull!”

They both watched the new target spin through the air above them. “Just breathe, alright, keep you arms level, finger on the trigger. When you’re ready, fire.”

Jesse listened to the sound of Hanzo steady breathing. He didn’t want to think about how good it felt just to hold him. Then there was the jolt of the gun firing and above them the target shattered, it’s piece falling to the ground like confetti. 

Jesse cheered and pulled Hanzo into a one armed hug around the chest from behind. “Looks like we got ourselves a natural!” 

“Hardly,” Hanzo said, breaking free from Jesse’s hold and handing peacekeeper back over to him with a faint blush still on his cheeks.

“No foolin’, I think there’s a new cowboy in town.” Jesse plucked his hat from his head and dropped it onto Hanzo’s where it sunk down passed his eye line. Hanzo snorted out a laugh and shoved at Jesse playfully, the blush on his cheeks darkening.

“But the village idiot remains the same,” he said, pushing the hat up from his eyes.

“It suits you. We might have to get you something more fitting than sweats to go with it though.”

“You really are the most ridiculous man,” Hanzo scoffed but he kept Jesse’s hat on for the rest of the afternoon.

*

“If you can’t do it, just say you can’t do it.”

“I can do it, it’s just… impractical and- what’s the word - inefficient! But I’m tellin’ you, I can do more with one than anyone else can do with two.”

“This is sounding a lot like you can’t do it.”

“Look-” Jesse set down his glass, sloshing amber liquid over the table “- I can do it just fine, but firing two guns at the same time is all flash with no substance. You’re lucky if you hit a couple of the targets you’re aimin’ for with an entire round. It’s just a waste of bullets.”

Their afternoon of shooting in the cold had ended with Jesse suggesting a drink to get some warmth back in their numb fingers. That had been several hours ago. It was now well into the evening and they had made an impressive dent in Jesse’s drink stash. They were currently sprawled out in a booth in the kitchen where they had first met, the lights down low and some blues music playing from Jesse’s phone. 

“Maybe,” Hanzo started, going to take a sip from his own glass and missing his lips on the first try, “you just can’t handle two guns.” 

One of the evening’s discoveries was that Hanzo became a bit of a shit when he was drunk. 

“You shoot a gun a few times and now you think you’re Wild Bill Hickok,” Jesse muttered, refilling his own glass. 

“Two guns just looks so much cooler.” Hanzo held up his hands as finger guns and mimed shooting them accompanied, adorably, with his own sound effects.

“My god, you’re a ridiculous drunk,” Jesse laughed. Hanzo was currently a bit of a mess; he was swaying slightly in his seat, eyes bleary, his hair almost completely out it’s usually slick tie, but he’d had a stupid grin on his face most of the afternoon. The man was so rarely in a good mood, Jesse couldn’t help but consider it a victory even if the booze should rightfully take most of the credit. 

“And you are a ridiculous cowboy if you can’t even fire two guns at the same time.”

“Look, darlin’,” Jesse said, leaning over the table, his voice lowering slightly, “it’s all about quality over quantity. Every shot I take hits it’s mark. That’s a guarantee.” 

“‘Darling’ is it now?” Hanzo pulled a face like he was concentrating very hard. “What happened to ‘coach’?”

“Well, you ain’t coachin’ me nothing right now.”

“That is incorrect. I am schooling you in this drinking contest.”

Jesse choked into his drink. “Oh, I pray to God you remember you said that in the morning. Anyhow, I don’t remember nothing about either of us mentioning a contest, you just started knockin’ them back like there was no tomorrow.”

“You are just surprised that the foreigner can handle your american drink better than you can.” Hanzo waved his empty glass in front of Jesse, who dutifully refilled it. “You didn’t think I could drink this much, did you?” 

“The flask hanging ready to hand from your belt was a bit of a giveaway, I gotta say.”

“How do you know what is in my gourd? It could be water.”

Jesse looked at him, eyebrow raised. “Is it?”

“No,” Hanzo said, grinning like he’d just told a dirty joke. Jesse chuckled, scrubbing a hand down his face. He couldn’t believe he was sitting here talking to Hanzo like this. It was refreshing to be the most sensible person in a conversation for a change. 

“OK, Ok, how about this one; shooting while riding a horse.”

“Oh, I have actually done this,” Hanzo said, face lighting up.

“You’re shitting me.” 

“I am doing no such thing. When I was young, maybe fifteen, I became obsessed with the idea of Yabusame for a brief period, to the extent my father sent me to some stables he owned to train for a while.” He snorted, shaking his head at the memory. 

Jesse whistled, genuinely impressed. “You any good?”

“Of course I was. But the training was hard and took up too much time. Eventually I had to give it up.”

“Still, you up on a horse with your bow; that’s a sight I’d pay good money to see.”

“Genji teased me endlessly, said I looked like the bride in old romance stories, riding around with my hair blowing in the wind.” He paused then gestured vaguely to his head. “I wore my hair down back then.”

“That’s something else I’d pay good money to see.” Jesse smiled his most charming smile, which Hanzo simply glared at.

“I do not appreciate your mockery,” he said, jabbing at Jesse’s chest. OK, maybe Hanzo was too far gone for flirting right now. Or just about anything. 

“Maybe it’s time to cut you off.” Jesse reached for his drink but Hanzo quickly grabbed it from the table.

“No, I am not finished yet!” With that, he downed the rest of the glass, messily dribbling some of it into his beard.

“Fine, but don’t blame me in the morning when you feel like death.” Jesse actually thought that getting a bit shit faced was probably the best thing for Hanzo right now. It was about time he removed that stick from his ass, even if it was only for one night, and if it helped him forget about his own demons for a while, all the better. If the mother of all hangovers was the price, well, that seemed like a bargain to Jesse.

“I do like this drink,” Hanzo said, licking a droplet of it from the corner of his lips. “What is it called?”

“Bourbon whiskey. The best company you could ever have.”

Hanzo examined the glass, swirling the contents around in slow circles. There was a permanent flush across his nose and high on his cheeks from the drink. It was painfully endearing. “I think I have had this before. Yes, I am sure of it.”

“Oh yeah, when was that?”

“On my seventeenth birthday.”

“Well, now you got me needing the whole story.”

“It requires some explanation and I have already prattled on too much tonight. Enough.” 

“Hey, I don’t mind, I love hearing you talk.” Jesse coughed, suddenly realising how that sounded. “I mean, I find it very interesting. You don’t speak about yourself often. I’m learning a lot about you tonight, I mean, besides the fact you’re a lightweight.”

“Hey!” Hanzo went to shoved at Jesse but toppled onto him instead.

“Come on,” Jesse cajoled, laying it on a little thick as he pushed Hanzo back upright. “You speak so well. I could listen to you read me the phone book.” 

“You are a flatterer,” Hanzo said, waving off Jesse’s aid.

“I’ll keep going if I think it’ll make you talk.”

“I admire your perseverance, but it is unnecessary. The drink has loosened my tongue quite enough already.” Hanzo sighed and slouched back in his chair, pushing his windswept hair out his eyes. “Where to start? Well, my seventeenth birthday was the day I was considered a man in the eyes of the clan. The celebrations were, like most of my life at that point, planned for me without any input from myself.

“There was to be a rather dry gathering that evening with the clan leaders, most of whom were very old, boring men. All very unattractive. It was more an excuse for self congratulation for raising such an heir on their part rather than anything to do with me. The sad fact was that even if I had been allowed my own celebrations, I had no one to invite to such a thing. I didn’t have much of a chance to socialise back then, you see. I wasn’t like Genji, always making friends. It was almost a relief that the options of that day was taken away from me. It was considerably pathetic.” Hanzo broke off with a bitter scoff and drained his drink. Jesse wanted to interject with some words of comfort or sympathy but it didn’t feel right to interrupt him now, and he selfishly didn’t want to give him any reason to stop talking. It was so rare to hear anything about his past from the man himself. It was like looking behind the curtain at what happened before everything went to shit.

“Genji was the only one that thought it was unfair,” Hanzo continued. “He was still naive enough to think that we had some say in how we lead our lives and demanded that I had a birthday party like regular seventeen year olds- well, a very rich seventeen year old.” Hanzo laughed and sloshed more bourbon into his glass, spilling some over the table. “I still remember the argument he had with our father about it. They way Genji would speak to him sometimes, I don’t know how he got away with it - Well, I suppose…” Hanzo trailed off then took a swig from his drink before continuing.

“That morning there was to be the ceremony where I took my first life to prove my dedication and allegiance to the clan. It was very stupid and overdramatic but at the time I thought it was the most important thing in the world. Genji used this as an argument to say I had done enough of my duty that day and didn’t need to be present for the evening. The ceremony was all I cared about so I agreed with him but, of course, our father demand that we both be there. It was, after all, a celebration for me.” Hanzo took a deep breath and released it slowly, then turned to look at Jesse for the first time since he’d began his story. “This is boring, isn’t it?”

“What, no,” Jesse said, startled. He’s been listening with rapt attention. It was the most he’d ever heard Hanzo speak at one time. “I’m hangin’ on every word over here.”

“I told you more flattery was unnecessary but if you wish me to continue I shall. So… yes, that night. It was not especially unpleasant, but the ritual that morning had... shaken me more than I had assumed it would. The man I had killed had been one of our members of staff whom I had known since I was a child. It was… unpleasant. I suppose that’s what made me so susceptible to Genji’s persuasions. He took me aside after only a few hours and told me he had planned something for me in town and that he had a way for us to get there. It seems ridiculous now, but at the time I was so angry at him; for disobeying father, for trying to get us into trouble, for going behind my back. I was truly insufferable.”

“Eventually he got me to go along with it, I don’t even remember how. We snuck out when no one was paying attention, it was far easier than I had always assumed it was. Genji must have paid off some of the staff to not report us, as no one we came across tried to stop us. The amount of effort he must he put into it all. That was just like him; put tremendous effort into something that didn’t matter and neglect anything important. He had one of his bikes waiting - he had a fleet of the things, all terrible fluorescent colours. I really hated them - and a change of clothes for both of us. He drove us out into town, me riding on the back clinging on to him like I was his girl, and took us to one of his favourite haunts. It was this garish club that asked no questions about letting in minors. The amount of times I had dragged him out of this place when he’d snuck out to be with his friends. I suppose he thought it was funny to have my party there.”

“Inside the place was filled with people, most of whom I didn’t recognise, but when we entered they cheered my name like I was an old friend. It was ridiculous, Genji must have gotten them all to go along with this whole charade just to give me the illusion I was normal for the night. That was how much people loved him, they’d pretend to love his brother just because he asked.” Jesse didn’t even think to stop Hanzo as he drained the entirety of his glass and poured out another large one. 

“Anyway,” Hanzo’s voice was now slightly slurred and Jesse was surprised it had taken him this long, “the drinks were flowing and I’d never drunk this much in my life- I think it might have even been dancing at one point. They were being bought for us all through the night, I don’t think I paid for a single one of them. Champagne, spirits, beers, we had it all, and at one point we were handed a bourbon each. Genji got really excited about it and he told me that this was the drink that made him feel like a ‘wealthy American businessman’.” Hanzo laughed, high and childish and it made Jesse smile. “To ‘wealthy American businessmen’,” he toasted and took a long drink. 

That was where Hanzo stopped. He slumped back in his chair, smacking his lips, cradled his drink on his chest.

“Well?” Jesse prompted.

“Well, what?” Hanzo asked blearily.

“Well, how did it end? Did you get in trouble when you got back?”

“I was so drunk by the end of the night I could hardly stand. Genji somehow got me home and then went straight to our father. He took responsibility for all of it. He said the only reason I had gone along with it was because I thought he would get into trouble if I didn’t. I can’t remember how he was punished but it was bad. My father told me the next day that my hangover was punishment enough and to not mix my drinks in the future. I remember feeling so relieved that I wasn’t in trouble that I managed to convince myself that Genji deserved all the punishment and that I hadn’t wanted to go in the first place. After all he had done for me.” Hanzo licked his lips and swallowed thickly. “Genji was always far braver than I. He was willing to fight for what he believed, in even if those beliefs were just the right to have a really good party.” He gave a choked laugh. “That was my Genji.”

The room fell into silence again now Hanzo had finished his story. The wailing music coming from Jesse’s phone seemed out of place now. 

“It sounds like he cares about you a great deal,” Jesse said quietly.

“He did. I never appreciated it enough at the time. I always thought he was just a burden, something that was bringing me down. Too late did I realise he was the only good thing back then.” Hanzo blinked wetly, his breath coming in a rush. “He was the only good thing to come out of all of us.”

“You know, it’s not too late. He’s still here. You can go tell him all this yourself.”

“No, I can’t. The Genji that came back isn’t my Genji. I killed that one.”

“Hanzo-”

“No, no, do not try and tell me any different. You said it yourself this morning, I’m the one that did this to him.” Hanzo’s voice cracked, tears now running freely down his face. His voice grew louder, more hysterical as he continued. “This is why I cannot accept the forgiveness Genji offers me. How can I when he doesn’t even realise he’s not Genji anymore? I took that from him! He’s not the boy that snuck me out the house because he thought I deserved better. He’s just a machine that thinks he belongs with other machines instead of his own kind!” 

Hanzo stood suddenly, wavering momentarily, before steadying himself on the table.

“I’m sorry, Jesse, you shouldn’t have to hear this.”

“It’s alright.” Jesse reached out to the hand Hanzo rested on the table but felt like he was a million miles away. “Just sit back down, OK?”

Hanzo pulled away from his touch. “No, it’s not alright. I’m sorry, I have to go. Thank you for the drinks.”

“Hanzo, wait-” Jesse made to follow him but was suddenly hit with a head rush when he stood. He hadn’t realised how much he himself had put away. “Just hold on there!”

But the drink hadn’t impaired Hanzo’s ability to disappear when he wanted to. Jesse slumped back down in the now empty room. He sat alone in the dim kitchen for a while until his head stopped spinning, the tinny music still playing on his phone. Eventually he gathered up his drink and returned to his own room. 

It wasn’t until the morning that he discovered that Hanzo had gone for good this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be the last and the longest, and, yes, it will finally live up to the explicit rating. Thank you so much for all the lovely, encouraging comments. I read them all avidly and cherish them.

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't beta'd so mistakes will happen.


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